Abeo  A Darkest Powers Fanfiction
by CeciliaVallin
Summary: What happens when Simon is captured, and meets a young girl, a redheaded Abeo Half-Demon? What happens when the rest of the gang comes for his rescue?
1. Chapter 1

Leah Winters has lived in the prison for her entire life. Not as an inmate, but as an adopted daughter of the prison's creator and warden, Brett Winters. As a Abeo Half-Demon, Leah struggles with the inability to reach her full potential when it comes to her ability to teleport, and with overcoming the gap between herself and the love of her adopted father. When a new prisoner arrives, claiming that he doesn't belong and that he hasn't done anything wrong, she doesn't believe him at first. But as he continues to tell her his story, she can't help the doubt she feels. Has her father imprisoned someone who doesn't belong here? Someone who hasn't committed a crime?

Finally, Leah finds no other choice than to investigate.

* * *

><p>Chapter one<p>

I could feel the nervousness creep up on me as I pushed the cart along the narrow corridor. I always felt like this when I was doing this task, but still, every single time, I was nervous, scared, sometimes even petrified.

There was always that possibility that they would attack me, thinking that holding me hostage would be their ticket to freedom. That if they threatened to snap my neck or pierce one of the plastic cutleries into one of my arteries and let me slowly bleed to death if they didn't let them out, they would get to leave their cells and be on their way to continue their evil deeds out in the open.

But they were all wrong.

It had happened once. Someone had grabbed me and called out for one of the guards, who'd appeared instantly. My capturer had said that if she wasn't freed immediately, she'd bite my head right off.

Neither I nor the guard who'd come had doubted her words. She'd been a vampire, so we both knew she was able to hurt me if she wanted to.

I'd been so scared as I sat there, held tightly in her grasp, whimpering and my eyes tearing up. I'd been a little bit surprised when she seemed to noticed how her fingers dug into the skin of my arms, and she'd loosened her grip a little. But I hadn't thought much of it at the time. I was too scared.

I'd always lived with a doubt inside of me when it came to my father, but when his face appeared at the small window in the door, peering in and setting his eyes on me, all doubt disappeared from my heart and mind. I could see in his eyes that he was _not_ going to do anything about it. There was just no way he was going to let the vampire go just because she threatened my life. The life of his own daughter.

When the vampire had noticed him standing there, her hold on me tightened again, and I let out a whimper of pain.

"Let me go or I will slit her throat out!" she'd hissed towards the locked door, one of her hands moving to grasp around my throat.

My father had just stayed on the other side, looking through the thick glass with unbothered eyes.

"If you do that, Karen," he'd said, his voice indifferent and calm, "It will only speed up the process of your execution. It's up to you. Die later, or die now."

And with that, he'd left. He'd left me there, locked inside a room with a vampire. A _vampire!_ One who could kill me right that second. It was then that I knew. That I understood for sure.

He didn't love me. He didn't even care if I lived or died. He'd never did.

I'd squeezed my eyes shut and prepared for what was coming. Tears slid down my cheeks and I didn't even stop myself from letting out the pathetic sobs. Like it mattered if I gave up. Like it mattered if I were strong, like he'd taught me to be. He could think of me as a wimp, as a loser. I didn't care anymore.

But my death never came. The vampire simply let go of me and pushed me away from here. I stared back at her, my eyes wide. I tried to speak, to ask her why she hadn't done it, but all I managed to press out was an odd mixture of a sob and shrill octave.

"He is your father," she'd said, her eyes landing on me. "Isn't he?"

I only managed a nod.

"Then why?" she asked, taking a step back and sitting down on her bed.

I managed to stand up from the cold floor, moving slowly toward the door. I still wasn't sure that she wasn't going to kill me.

I reached the spot where I needed to be to transport myself to the other side of the door, and was just about to do just that, when I hesitated. My eyes were on the vampire, her eyes were on me. She seemed so … Weirded out. Like she couldn't believe that my own father had just left me for dead. I don't know why I did it, but I answered her truthfully.

"He doesn't love me," I said, quietly, looking down to the floor. "He doesn't care."

"Didn't he take you in? Hasn't he raised you as his own?" she asked.

I didn't look up at her.

"In some way," I said. "I thought he did at first," I glanced up at her, "but then … I think he's … I think he's disappointed that I can't … That I can't …" I looked back down, letting my words trails off, unable to finish the sentence.

"Abeo?" she asked.

I looked back at her.

"What?"  
>"You father was an Abeo demon, right?" she asked.<p>

I just nodded.

"And you can't teleport as far as you should? Look at you now; you're inching closer to the door when you should've been able to just pop out when I was holding you. You should've been able to escape. But you didn't. You couldn't, could you?"

"No."

The word came so quietly, I don't think she would've been able to hear me if she wasn't a vampire.

She was silent for a moment, then she said: "So he doesn't love you because you haven't reached your full potential yet? What kind of a father is that?"

Her tone was venomous, hateful, disgusted. I met her eyes again.

"He's not proud of me because I'm not what he wants me to be," I said quietly. "He doesn't care about me because I've turned out to be a disappointment." I looked back down. "He doesn't love me because I'm not his."

I could feel the tears threatening to return as I heard the truth in my own words, and before I would completely crack down and start crying, I focused my attention on what I wanted to do, and found myself standing on the other side of the door. In a flash, her face was by the window, her eyes meeting mine.

"He is a monster," she said through the glass. "He might have told you that that's what the kinds of _me_ are, but you should know." Her face turned serious and cold. "_He_ is the monster."

Then she was gone from my sight, and when I peered through the window I saw her sitting on her bed, staring into the cement wall.

That had been two months ago, and now, as I once again pushed the cart through the corridor, I couldn't help but to glance over at her cell door. It was empty now. No one was in there. The vampire was gone, dead, and even though I knew she was evil, I still felt a pang inside my chest whenever I thought about what had been done to her. Killing wasn't right. No matter what my father said I just couldn't believe that killing another person had any kind of justice in it. If she'd been so bad, then why just not let her stay in her cell for her entire life, her entire existence. Why murder someone when the reason everyone thought so badly of her, was that she'd done just that. _Murder_. If it was so wrong, then why do it themselves?

As I passed the cell door I tried to push the thought away. I didn't want to think about what could happen inside those cells when I was about to enter one right now. And this wasn't just any cell. It was one with a new supernatural in it. I had no idea what this person could find himself able to do to me.

I stopped when I reached the cell door. I looked at the number written on it. 12. I glanced down on the cart and started filing through the many brown paper bags placed on it. I found one marked twelve and picked it up. It had a little symbol written on it too, a circle with a dot inside it, meaning special diet. I made face, wondering just what exactly his _special diet_ was.

I walked over to the door and tried to discretely peek through the window. I didn't want him to see me trying to spy on him.

He didn't notice me thought. He lay on his bed, his back resting against the headboard, his legs crossed and stretched out and his eyes closed. His arm rested behind his head, which bobbed slightly, as if moving it along the beat of music. There wasn't any music playing though.

His hair was short and blonde, which I found a bit odd considering he looked to be of Asian descent. He must've colored it. It looked good on him though. It fit him.

He wasn't much older than me. Maybe around eighteen or something. Most of the prisoners here was adult, which was another thing that often bothered me when I considered the fact that my father had assigned me – his fourteen year old daughter – to be the one entering their cells every day. But I guessed I was only natural, considering how he felt about me. I wasn't special to him, just another one of his employees. Even if I didn't get paid. But what would I need the money for anyway? It wasn't like I was allowed to strut outside and go shopping. I was stuck in this sterile and boring prison every single day, having to kill my boredom with videogames and TV, dreaming of the day _I'd _get to live out my own _The Hills._ Hell, I'd even prefer to be one of those _Teen moms _if it meant I'd get to live in the normal world. I'd take drama and pregnancy any day over rules and imprisonment.

I took a deep breath, looked away from the window and gave the door two hard knocks. I then focused on the spot on the other side of that door, and before a second had passed, I was inside the cell. I was just about to speak to him, when I noticed he was off bed the bed, making his way towards me. He saw me, and yelped.

"Whoa!" he exclaimed, stopping abruptly and placing a hand over his heart. "Where did you come from?"

I held out the paper bag to him.

"Your food," I said, and then I stood there, waiting for him to take it.

He didn't. He just stood there, staring at me. I sighed and took a hesitant step toward him.

"Take it," I said. "You must be hungry."

When he didn't move, I added: "Don't worry. It's uh …regulated to you, uh … special diet."

He must've noticed the question in my face, because he raised his eyebrows and gave me a funny look.

"Yeah," he said. "Bugs and the blood of the innocent."

I could feel the way my mouth opened in horror and disgust, and I tried not to imagine the image of him consuming whatever was inside the paper bag. I felt the sudden urge to just drop it. Get it away from me. But before I could, he'd walked over to me and snatched the bag from my outstretched hand.

"I'm diabetic," he said, walking back and plopping down on his bed again. "_Real_ special, I know."

I didn't say anything, just moved around and took a step towards the door. I was just about to transport again, when he spoke.

"Is it drugged?"

I turned around, staring at him.

"What?" I asked, chocked.

He looked up at me.

"Is the food drugged?"

"Why would it be drugged?"

He let out a small laugh.

"Uh, because you're afraid I'd run away and escape before you could do your little experiments on me," he said. "For all I know there could be poison in these insulin shots." He held something up that he'd taken out of his bag. It was some sort of syringe, I thought. Just not any syringe I'd ever seen before.

"You can't escape," I said, stupidly, as if I was implying he was dumb or something. I hadn't meant it that way.

He seemed thoughtful for a second. Then, he placed the thing back into the paper bag and set it aside. He positioned himself back the way he'd been before, resting on the bed, his back against the headboard.

"Maybe not by myself," he said. "My magic doesn't seem to work here." He frowned for a moment, before relaxing his face and closing his eyes. "But they'll come for me. And then I'm gone."

I don't understand what I was thinking, why I did what I did, but his calm tone annoyed me. He was in a prison. He'd done something wrong. Horribly wrong. He belonged in here and he was going to be punished for whatever evil deeds he'd done. And yet he lay there, relaxed and uncaring, believing he'd be out of this place without consequences. I gritted my teeth.

I took two steps toward the bed and crossed my arms over my chest.

"So you're a sorcerer?" I asked. He'd mentioned he couldn't do magic. "What did you do? Use your magic to steal? Betray? Kill?"

My voice was hard, venomous. I couldn't help it. Just imagining what this guy could've done to deserve this place made my insides turn.

He opened his eyes and looked at me.

"What?" he asked, sitting up straight. "Kill? What are you talking about? Why do you think I've killed someone? I would never do that."

"Then what did you do?" I pushed.

I didn't believe him, of course. The prisoners always lied. Thinking they could talk their way out of this place. Plead innocent to the young girl who brought them their food. I knew better. I knew they were all horrible people.

The guy stood up, his body tense with anger.

"Ididn't do anything!" he snapped. "You're the one who kidnapped me with the intention of doing god knows what to me!"

"_I _didn't do anything!" I snapped back, angry myself. "_I _just came with your food. You're _special _food. You should be glad my father is kind enough to help with that. For all I care you could eat maggots. It's what you deserve anyway. I wouldn't care if they let you starve to death in this prison."

It wasn't true though. I didn't think my father was kind enough. I knew he only let the prisoners have special diets if they really needed it to stay alive. Until their execution. And I didn't want him to eat maggots. That'd just be torture on our part. And we didn't torture. We were just, we followed the laws. We made sure justice took part, even if I wished justice didn't involve the taking off a life. But I didn't know if this guy was going to get executed. Maybe he was just here as a normal prisoner, here to do his time.

But still … he _was_ locked up in the E block. Only the worst criminals sat here.

His face change to confusion.

"Prison?" he asked. "You're saying this is a prison? As in a place for criminals?"

"Duh," I said, hating the way I sounded like a total brat, but ignoring the feeling. "What did you think it was? A resort?"

He sat back down on the bed.

"Why am I in prison?" he asked.

The anger was gone from his face and voice now. He seemed honestly confused.

"Because you're a rouge supernatural," I said. "This is where you go when you don't follow the laws."

He looked up at me.

"What laws? Is it illegal to run for your life now? Is it illegal to protect yourself and your family? You're honestly telling me I'm in prison for not letting myself become a lab rat or being killed?"

I stared at him. What the hell was he talking about? Then I remembered. Prisoners lie. They all do. That was what he was doing now; playing me.

I backed toward the door.

"Eat your food," I said.

And then I travelled to the other side of the door, grasping the cart's handle and began pushing it down the corridor again, continuing my assignment for the day, trying to forget the look on his face. Trying to remove the feeling inside me that said he _had_ been as confused as he seemed. Trying to stop myself from believing him


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter two

When I'd brought all the prisoners their food I brought the cart back to the kitchen. The prison chef, Rodney Hall, was still there, cleaning up the last of the mess. He looked over when I entered.

"Everything go okay?" he asked, turning his attention back to the pot he was cleaning.

I parked the cart where it always stood and then walked over to him, resting my hip against the counter and rested my gaze on the running water coming from the tap. I cleared my throat.

"Rod," I said, not taking my eyes off the water. "What do you know about the new one? The blonde guy in cell twelve?"

He'd finished cleaning the pot and placed it aside to dry, turning off the water and wiping his hand on a towel next to the large sink.

"Twelve," he murmured to himself, seeming to concentrate as he tried to connect the number to the prisoner itself. "I know he's diabetic," he said once he remembered. "And that he's a sorcerer, I think."

"He is," I said.

Rod finished drying his hands and glanced down at me, raising his eyebrows.

"Why are you asking?"

I shrugged.

"No reason."

Rod walked over to one of the fridges and opened the door. He reached inside and pulled out a carton of chocolate milk, which he handed over to me with a kind smile. I took it from him with a tank you.

I pulled off the attached straw, removed the plastic covering it and then pushed it through the small hole, raising it to my lips and taking a sip.

"You know," Rod said after I'd taken a second sip. "I think you're getting too old for those."

I looked up at him, smiling and taking a third sip. A long one. When I finished, I said: "I'm only fourteen."

Rod chuckled.

"When it's chocolate milk and videogames, you still a kid. When it's responsibilities and assignments, you're a full-grown woman it appears," he reached out and patted my head lightly. "Maybe you should make up your mind, Leah. You can't be kid forever."

"I'm not a kid," I said, then glancing down to the small carton in my hand. "I just … It's really good. I don't think I'll ever stop loving chocolate milk."

He chuckled again.

"And that's why I keep buying them. Only the best for our girl."

I smiled at him, but inside, I felt awful. That's what they all called me. _Our girl_. They were all so nice to me. Rod, the guards, my teachers, even some of the prisoners. Everyone seemed to like having me around. They seemed to respect me and they even seemed to not care that my powers wasn't what they should be. My teachers never told me I must work harder with my training. They only said that my powers would become greater in time. I was only fourteen, they said. Only a kid. _Our _kid.

Then why didn't my father think so? Why didn't he trust my powers to grow in time? Why was I a disappointment to him, when everyone else told me I was fine just the way I was? Why did they act like they loved me, when he, my own father, acted like I was an annoying fly buzzing around his head, forced upon him when he didn't want me there? Then why had he adopted me? He wouldn't do that if he didn't want a child, would he? And aren't a father supposed to love his child even _if_ they didn't excel in life. Sometimes I felt like he'd only adopted me in hope of using me for my powers.

Well, I guess I didn't turn out to be the mercenary he'd hoped I'd been. I'd only turned out to be that annoying little girl, useful only to bring the food around.

I looked away from Ron, fearing he'd see my thoughts on my face.

"So, is that all you know about him? Number twelve, I mean," I asked, turning around and walking over to the garbage bin, throwing out the now empty carton of chocolate milk. When I turned back around, I found Ron had placed himself by the kitchen island, and I went to sit beside him on one of the tall bar stools.

"Let me think," he said, tapping his chin dramatically and giving me a coy smile. "Twelve, twelve, twelve. I think he is seventeen," he continued. "Could be eighteen, I can't remember. Only looked at his file briefly. And his name is …. Buck? No, _Blue. Kevin Blue._"

"What's he in for?" I asked, trying to not sound _too_ interested.

Ron looked at me for a moment, hesitantly, before continuing.

"I don't know. I can't remember it being in the file. But he's in the E-block I think," he looked at me and I nodded, confirming it, "so he must've done something serious."

I looked down.

"I guess so," I said, trying to hide my disappointment over his ignorance in the matter.

"Let me guess," Ron said, and I looked up at him again. "He told you he didn't belong here? That he hadn't done anything wrong?"

"Yeah, I mean, they all do. At some point," I said. "It's like they think _I_ could get them free."

Ron looked at me for a moment, silent. Then, he stood up from the bar stool.

"It's because he'd young," he said, making his way over to me and placing a hand on my shoulder.

I met his gaze.

"What?"

"That's why you're uncertain, Leah. Because he's so young. Only a kid. I bet he even looks innocent enough."

"I'm not–" I began, but he cut me off.

"I'm not blaming you," he said. "But you have to understand, Leah. They all lie. You can't let them get to you."

"But it's not just that," I said. "He didn't even seem to understand that this was a prison, talking about experiments and being kidnapped. Like _he_ was the one wronged in all this."

Ron smiled.

"Lies, Leah. Lies."

I ducked my head.

"I know," I said, and then, when he gave me a stern look, I added, "I. Know," saying the words clearly and focused.

"Isn't it time for lessons?" he asked, taking his hand of my shoulder and peeking down onto his wristwatch. "Dawn's probably waiting for you."

* * *

><p>"Hey, dad?" I asked as I entered the warden's office.<p>

I'd just finished my classes for the day and I had actually gotten some progress with my teleportation. I couldn't be more psyched to tell him.

He sat by his desk, hunched over some papers, writing something. He didn't say anything to let me know he'd heard me, which I knew he'd did, he just didn't acknowledged my presence.

"I had progress with Dawn," I said, and he turned around to look at me.

"Really?" he asked, his eyes shining a bit. "How much?"

My heart sank at the excitement in his voice and features. He wanted me to say I'd teleported ten feet, twenty feet, maybe even fifty feet. But that wasn't the case.

I forced myself not to look away from him as I said: "I managed six this time."

His face became indifferent again.

"Oh," was all he said before turning back around, returning his focus on whatever he was doing.

I walked over and stood beside him.

"One feet more," I said. "Maybe I'll be able to go even further next time."

I tried to sound exited, promising, like I actually believed that would happen. My father only gave a dull: "Sure."

I glanced down at the papers on his desk.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Work," he said without looking to me. "Please don't bother me right now, Leah."

I noticed he was looking on an inmate file. When I read the name on the top of the page, my curiosity took the best of me.

"Kevin Blue? That's the new one, right?"

I searched down the page, trying to read the short summary right beneath the name, but my father closed the file before I could focus on the words.

"Didn't I tell you not to bother me?" he asked, looking at me. "This is work, Leah. So let me work."

I stared at my father, his dark-brown hair, tanned skin and green eyes so different from my own red hair, pale freckled skin and blue eyes. I'd searched his face for a likeness to me so many times, hoping that, even if I wasn't his biological child, there's be something there, showing me I was his daughter. I wanted him to look at me in that way. I wanted to see a spark in his eyes that told me he cared, that he loved me. But I never saw it.

I left his office. I left the main building.

I walked across the yard to the housing area. There were three houses there. One for me and my father, one for Ron and one for Dawn, my teleportation instructor. The rest of the people working here had another housing are on the other side of the main building.

We all lived here like a twisted up colony of sorts. Of course we had to travel to the closest town from time to time, but only to buy supplies and such. I wasn't invited along for that. Ever.

Once the prison had appeared in the local newspaper, calling us a cult. People outside the supernatural community didn't know what this place was, and those within it, mostly thought of us as creepy people. Who would seclude themselves to prison in the forest, living there like it was any kind of life? I guess we would. _I_ would. I spent my days at this prison, and even if I left the prison itself during the night, I still slept in a bed close to it.

This was how it'd always been. This was the life I knew. Even if I didn't live _out there_, I still knew all about it from television and the internet. No matter what people may think we weren't some low-tech Neanderthals. We were just as advanced as the rest of the world. Only more … personal.

As I walked along the stone pathway and entered towards the housing area, I thought I heard voices. I stopped and turned my gaze to the beginning of the thick forest. The prison and the housing areas stood in a large clearing, and all around us towered the dark forest. Even if it was only five p.m, the winter was on its way, and the sky was dark above me.

I squinted, trying to see past the first few trees, but failing. I listened carefully. Nothing. I must've imagined it. No one would be out in the forest. Everyone was either inside doing their jobs or at home. Still, I called out.

"Anyone there!"

Silence.

"Karl? Mia?"

Silence.

I shrugged and continued walking, if only the slightest bit faster. Even if the forest was empty of people, it still contained animals. And animals could be dangerous.

I reached my house and walked inside, making sure to lock the door. _If_ there had been someone in the forest, it _could_ be of the prisoners ally's trying to break them out. It had happened. Once. But since that the magical shield around this place was far too great to be penetrated by anything less than an army. My father also had other precautions of sort, but I didn't like to think of them. Too … gross.

I spent the rest of the evening playing videogames in the living room. I preferred to do it here, in the large comfy couch, but whenever my father was home I was restricted to play in my room. Since he wasn't home yet, I dared to start another mission, in hope that I'd finish it and reach the next auto save point before he got home.

I did. I didn't push my luck and start another mission, but instead turned off the console and the TV, turning off the ceiling lamp as I left the living room and entered the kitchen.

I was standing by the counter in front of the window, making myself a midnight snack, when something flashed outside the window. I leaned forwards and squinted, trying to make out what it was.

"What the …" I said to myself as I saw a camera, a small compact one, levitating in the air, moving past my window in walking speed.

I followed it with my gaze, my brows furrowing. It stopped suddenly, shaking slightly. I just kept on staring. It moved again, after a few seconds, the lens pointing itself towards me it flashed again, as if taking a picture by itself. Then it shot away, moving raggedly in the air as it moved toward the main building.

I didn't think before I ran out off the kitchen, into the hall and out the front door. I advanced on the camera shouting: _Hey!, _and waved frantically with my right hand. It stopped still again and this time it fell. It landed on the ground with a soft thud. I continued running until I reached it. At first, I just stared at it. I don't know what I expected to happen. It was a _camera_. What could it do to me. Finally, after a minute or two of hesitation, I reached down and picked it up. I looked all around me, but didn't see anything suspicious.

It was on and I pressed a button, accessing the pictures. As I scrolled though them, I noticed they were pictures of the forest, then the housing area, the last picture of _my_ house, with me standing wide-eyed in the kitchen window.

I frowned.

I heard something to my right, and turned my head just in time to see something coming flying toward me. I ducked down and the object hit the front door instead of my head. It was a stone. I looked back to where it'd come from and could see another stone, levitation into the air, pulling back and then searing off toward me with his velocity. I avoided that one again and as I saw a thirst stone start to lift, I tore open the front door, hurrying inside and slamming it shut behind me just as a loud thud echoed from the other side. I locked the door and ran to my bedroom.

I don't know how long I sat on my bed, clutching the camera, my gaze fixed on my bedroom door. When I heard the front door open my heart jumped, but when I heard my father's words coming from the hallway, I relaxed and climbed off the bed.

I'd just reached my door when I stopped. Should I tell him? Of course I should. But … I glanced down at the camera. No. I wouldn't tell him. I'd find out myself what was going on and then, when I told him, he'd be proud of me, congratulating me on taking responsibility and doing something useful for once.

I hid the camera in my dresser, even if I wouldn't need to hide it. He never came into my room. Still, it felt better to hide it. Just in case.

I changed, went to bed, and slept.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter three

It was gone. The camera. When I woke up the next day, it wasn't in my dresser anymore. It wasn't anywhere, and I _did_ search my entire room, the task only leaving me even more confused, as I found not only the camera was missing, but something of my own. Something important. Something personal. _Very _personal.

My diary was gone.

"Did you go into my room?" I asked my father when I sat down at the kitchen table. "Something's missing."

He took his gaze of the newspaper her was reading and gave me a look that highly implied he considered me to be either stupid, or just mentally challenged.

"You think I went into your room and stole something?" he asked.

I shook my head.

"No! Of course not. I just thought … maybe you–"

"What would I want to take from your room, Leah. What could I possibly need from a fourteen year old teenage girl?" He looked back down to his newspaper. "Don't be stupid."

The rest of the breakfast was silent. When he finished, he stood up from the table.

"Hurry up now," he said, folding the newspaper under his arm and grabbing his plate and mug, starting toward the kitchen. "You need to deliver the breakfast."

This time when I knocked on Kevin's cell, I waited outside instead of just popping in directly. It took a little longer than necessary for him to appear on the other side of the window, but when he did, he gave me kind smile.

"Come on in," he said and backed away from the door, as if I was going to open it.

I transported myself inside and appeared in front of him. He seemed a bit taken aback, but not a surprised as yesterday.

"That's so cool," he said, grabbing the bag I held out for him.

I forced myself not to think about how normal he seemed. Ron had been right, I realized. It _was_ because he was so young. He seemed and acted like a normal teenager. It was hard envisioning this guy doing anything evil. Even the way he smiled at me seemed genuine.

"So what are you," he asked, peeking into his bag before closing it again, walking over to his bed and sitting down.

He looked at me. I considered if I should tell him or not. It wasn't that I didn't want him knowing about me. I didn't care if the inmates knew what or who I was. It wasn't like they could use it against me. They all knew about what'd happened with the vampire. They all knew _he_ wouldn't save me if they threatened. I wasn't sure if Kevin knew though, but for some reason I didn't fear he'd turn on me.

"Half-Demon," I said. "Abeo."

"And that's teleportation?" he asked. "Like you just did?"

I nodded.

"Cool," he said again. "Wish I could do that. Would come in handy, you know," he said, his voice playful as he jerked his head toward the door.

"You'd still be blocked," I told him. "All inmates are blocked."

"Then why can you do it?"

"Because I'm not blocked," I said with a small laugh.

I cursed myself for sounding so casual, and immediately turned my face serious again. I wasn't allowed to make conversation with the prisoners. And I'd never wanted to before, believe me, but now, with him … I guess it's the teenager thing. I was the only one this place. I didn't have any friends my own age. Pathetic, I know, but I wasn't allowed to leave and it's not like you can truly create a great relationship on the internet. At least not according to me. I'm just not like that. I want something real. Something close, touchable.

But he's not a friend. He's an enemy of sorts.

He looked away from me and moved to rest on the bed in that way he does. I thought about leaving, continue along with the cart, but there was something I wanted to ask him, so I stayed.

"Um …" I started and he looked up at me. "Didn't you get the brief before they locked you in?"

He frowned.

"The brief?"

"Yeah, the, uh … Information. You know, the rules. It's just … You don't seem to know … I mean, you were chocked when I first came and you didn't know who I was."

He gave a soft chuckle.

"That's because I've never met you," he said, amused. "Why would I know who you are?"

"The brief," I said. "It should've explained about me. That I would bring the food, I mean. And that I'm a Half-Demon. You all get it, to understand how it is. The rules."

Kevin rested his head back on his arms and closed his eyes.

"I didn't get no brief," he said. "But I really would've appreciated one. Letting me know why I'm here, that is."

I took a step toward him.

"You know why you're here."

He opened his eyes and met my gaze, his face serious.

"No. I don't."

I could make out a hint of irritation in his voice, but very little, like he was trying to compose himself.

"You're here because you've done something wrong. That's what prisons are for."

He shot up, standing from the bed and taking a step toward me. I took a step back.

"I know what a prison is!" he snapped. "What I don't know is why I'm in one! I've done nothing wrong! I'm not a criminal! Sure, maybe I've shoplifted once or twice, but only when I _really _needed to. To survive!"

I gaped at him. He seemed so serious. Like he truly believed his own words.

"Well," I said, "it's not like _I_ locked you in here. _I'm_ the one who brings your food. You have to scream at _me_."

His face softened, and he backed away from me.

"I'm sorry," he said. "But I can't know that for sure. Sure, I don't believe a kid like you could kidnap me the way I was kidnapped, but with that power, you could surely sneak up on someone. For all I know _you_ were in on it."

"Please," I scoffed. "I can barely reach though that door," I gestured towards the cell door, "how could I possibly sneak up on anyone?"

I bit my lip. _That _was something I _didn't _want the prisoners to know. The lack of my power. That was something they could mock me for. Everyone in here was a supernatural, all with their own powers. I didn't want them to consider me as weak. I just couldn't deal with that. It was enough having my own father look down on me. I didn't need there liars and murderers doing the same.

To my surprise, he didn't comment on it. Instead he sat back down on his bed and asked: "Do I get to go out? Like, play pool or walk around for a half-hour? Isn't that what prisoners do?"

"Not the E-block ones," I said. "They stay inside. In the cells."

He frowned.

"E-block?"

"Class E convicts," I explained. "E is the worst. I mean, the most guarded. Secure."

"Huh," he said. "I guess that's why it's taking a little longer then."

"What?"

He smiled at me again, playfully, and gave me a conspiratorially look.

"My great escape," he whispered. "The breaking me out."

"You can't break out of here," I said, crossing my arms across my chest.

"Like I said before; maybe not by myself. But they'll come for me."

"No one is coming for you, Kevin. And even if they were, they couldn't even get past the barriers. No one can. My father has made–"

"Who is Kevin?"

I stopped talking and looked at him, raising my eyebrows. He's not in the head, I thought. He can't even remember his own name. _That's_ what's wrong with him. Maybe that's why he seemed so lost here. Maybe that's why he seemed to truly believe he didn't belong. His twisted mind wouldn't let him remember what he' done, filling his head with thoughts of kidnapping and experiments.

I felt relieved. He _was_ evil. Just not aware of it. I'd finally found an excuse to tell myself. That feeling in my gut, that feeling that told me he wasn't lying, was right! Because he wasn't lying. He thought he told the truth.

"Hello?"

I snapped out if my thoughts at his voice. He stood in front of me again, waving a hand in front of my face.

"Earth to ginger girl."

I focused my gaze on his.

"Finally. I thought you'd disappeared forever," he said. "So about this Kevin?"

I slapped his hand away, something I wasn't allowed to do. I could never touch them, my father had explained. Never.

"_You're_ Kevin," I said, harshly. "Kevin Blue. I read your file."

That was a lie. I hadn't _exactly _read his file. I'd only read his name.

Kevin laughed softly.

"Well, your files are incorrect," he said. "My name is not Kevin."

"Sure it's not," I said.

I turned away from him, making my way toward the door to leave the cell.

"My name is Simon. Simon Bae."

I stopped and looked back at him.

"Doesn't matter if you tell me you name is George Clooney," I said. "I know what your name is, Kevin. I'm not falling for any lies. I know your name, I know you're in here for something you've done, something bad, and I know you're not getting out any time soon. No one in E-block does."

His eyes softened, and he seemed to be thinking something over.

"Why are you here anyway?" he asked. "You're just a kid. You shouldn't be hanging out in a prison. Don't you have school or something?"

"I've always been here," I snapped. "My father build this place. And I'm not a kid. I'm fourteen. And I don't need school. I've got everything I want right here. Why would I go to a place where I would only get to learn stupid information that I'll never need?"

"Wait," Kevin said. "You've _always _been here? As in growing up here?"

"Yeah, so what?" I snapped.

"I just …" He glanced around the cell. "I mean, I've only seen this part, but still. You're room's not like this, right? You're not my neighbor in the cell to the right?"

He spoke the words jokingly, but something in his eyes told me he was actually appalled at the thought of me sleeping in a cell next to him.

"Of course not! I live in a house. A _normal_ house! With a normal bedroom."

"And what? You're a fourteen year old girl who commutes daily to a prison, just to feed the criminals?"

"No," I said, my tone hinting on a bit of stupidity on his part. "I live in the housing area. With my dad. I don't live in the actual prison. That's stupid."

"Housing area?" he asked. "What's that?"

"It's where we live," I said. "The people who work here. Who isn't locked up. The _good_ people."

He was silent for a moment.

"You're telling me you live in a house close to here? That everyone who works here do that? Does everyone in town work here? What kind of place is this? Is this some kind of cult?"

Anger flared inside me at that word.

"We're not a cult!" I exclaimed. "We're not weird! All we do is help everyone else by keeping tabs on _their_ problems! Do you see anyone else spending their days making sure the bad people isn't out there tormenting the innocent? No. Because they ship them off to us and then forget about the whole thing. Do they thank us? No. Do they offer assistance. No. They go around chatting amongst each other about how the weird and anti-social bunch at Winters Penitentiary can be used as a fucking escape goat! We're not some stupid little box you can open and lock away your problems in! We're doing the world a huge a favor with this prison! It's the only one, the only one in the world for supernaturals. We dedicate out lives to this! And all everyone else does is look down at us. Call us names. Cult! Who do they think they are? We offer them security. Magical barriers, trained guards, fucking zombies even and they just …"

I breathed. It wasn't like me to just lose it like that. It wasn't even like me to curse. I just got so angry with people who didn't understand. Kevin just stared at me. I glared at him.

"I'm sorry," he said after a few seconds of silence.

I sighed and looked down.

"Of course I want to leave this forest some day," I said. "I want to go to New York, London, anywhere else. And I will. I just … My father's … I have to stay here for now. But I'll go. Once I get older."

"Forest?" Kevin asked.

"Yeah, I've been in this forest my entire life. I know about the rest of the world, but I've just never left …"

I stopped short and looked up at him. His face was soft and he seemed to be really listening to what I was saying. Once again I felt angry. Really angry.

"Stop!" I said. "I can't believe I fell for this."

I took the step I needed to transport.

"Fell for what?" he asked just before I found myself on the other side of the door. His face appeared by the window.

"Fell for what?" he asked again.

I glared at him.

"Next time, you don't speak to me," I hissed. "Don't even look at me! I'm not your source of information!"

With that, I pushed the cart along, walking away from his cell.

"I wasn't–" was all I had time to hear before he was out of earshot.

I cursed myself for letting myself be fooled. I'd stood there, jabbering on and on about what this place was, _where _it was and about how well it was guarded. How could I be so stupid? Even if he was locked in there, even if the magic wouldn't allow him any connection to his powers, that sort of information was never meant for the ears of the prisoners. They couldn't know where they were. What they were dealing with. All they should know was that they were here for something they'd done. What _if_ Kevin found a way to contact someone outside? He'd have all the information needed for them to think out a plan. If they knew about the magic and the zombies, there _was_ a possibility that they'd find a way passed it. We weren't invincible.

I tried thinking back to our previous conversation. Had I let anything slip then? I couldn't think of anything. And he kept saying someone was coming for him. What if that was true? What is someone really was out there, trying their hardest to break him out. What is that person, _those_ persons actually had the abilities to do so? My father would kill me if he knew what I'd just done. He'd be so mad.

I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream I was so angry with myself. I had to do something. I had to make sure this wouldn't risk anything.

I went over it in my head. What could I do? I'd already told him so much and I didn't know what he was able of … I thought of it them. I admit, it wasn't a solution, not at all, but it_ was_ a beginning to finding one. If I didn't know what Kevin Blue was able to do, if I didn't know about any possible connections he had or any possible fellow criminals, I'd have to found out.

I had to read his file.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter four

I decided to wait until after lunch to sneak into my father's office. I knew he would just allow me to go through the inmates files if I asked him, so I figured I'd take my chance and do it in secret when he was busy with other things. I knew he was having a meeting after lunch, so I decided to wait.

It took all my concentration not to leap from the dining table and rush over to the main building. All I could think about was Kevin Blue and all the confliction emotions and thought I had about him.

I was surprised when my father spoke. Usually our dinners flew by quietly, but today, he actually started up a conversation. If only he'd chosen another subject.

"I heard you today," he said without looking at me.

"What?" I asked.

"I was walking though the E-block and I heard you speak to number twelve," he glanced up at me and gave me a look that made my insides turn. "Conversationally."

The way he said the word actually made me flinch. Accusingly. Disgustedly.

"I wasn't–"

"You're not allowed to do that, Leah. Especially not with number twelve. We know too little about him. The next time you deliver his lunch you're not going to even glance his way. You're going to pop in, and pop out. Understood?"

I nodded and my father returned to his meal. I decided to take a chance here, try to get the information I needed directly from my father instead of sneaking into his office later. I didn't think he'd tell me anything, but I could try.

"I think he's mentally challenged," I said, spooning up some mashed potatoes onto my fork.

"And why do you think that?" my father asked, indifferent, not really interested.

"He keeps saying weird things."

"They all say weird things, Leah."

"I know, but, Kevin's–" I stopped abruptly at the look my father gave me. "_Number Twelve_," I continued, "talks about being kidnapped and people doing experiments on him. And I think he actually believes what he's saying."

When my father didn't say anything, I continued.

"He keeps saying someone is coming for him. To rescue him, I mean."

My father scoffed.

"That's not possible, Leah," he said.

"I know, but …"

I'd been about to tell him about my slip-up earlier, but stopped myself before I did.

"He doesn't even seem to know is name. Says it's not Kevin Blue, but Simon B-something."

My father's head shot up.

"Simon Bae?" he asked, his voice alert and his eyes wide. "He said his name was Simon Bae?"

I thought back.

"Yeah, that's it. Bae."

Before I could react, my father was standing up, walking over to where I sat. He towered over me, pinning me with something I would consider to be a crazy stare.

"Are you telling me the truth, Leah? Simon Bae? He said that?"

I stared at him.

"Why would I lie about that?" I asked him.

His eyes glanced to the side, and he shook his head lightly.

"No. Of course you wouldn't," he said, more to himself than to me it appeared. "Eat your dinner. I have to go."

He started to leave the dining room, and I turned in my chair.

"Where are you going?" I called after him, but he's already reached the hallway.

It didn't take more than five seconds for me to hear the front door close behind him. I stared after him, gaping, wondering what that was all about.

I had twenty minutes until I was needed in the kitchen to take out the food cart. I walked casually along the hallway, expecting to run into at least a few guards in my way to the office, but I didn't see a single person. The place seemed empty, deserted even.

I didn't think much of it, just assuming I'd gotten extremely lucky, and even dared myself to pick up a little speed as I walked.

When I reached the warden's office the door was locked. I'd expected that, and frankly, for someone like me, that didn't matter. I teleported inside and set my eyes on the big filing cabinet next to the large mahogany desk.

I scanned the boxes, finding the one marked: A to D, and opened it. It didn't budge. Of course it didn't. It was locked.

I stared at it. How could I have looked past the fact that my father would keep the filing cabinet locket? Of course he would. He wasn't stupid. I signed and sat down in his desk chair.

What was I going to do now? I didn't have a key, and I knew my father had the only one. I didn't know how to pick a lock. I glanced over at the computer screen.

Well, it won't hurt trying.

The computer was on and I opened up Firefox, typing in the address to the site I wanted to access. Once it loaded, I typed in 'How to pick a lock' into the search field and pressed enter. I quickly found one that _seemed_ most convenient, and played the video.

I found two paperclips in the top drawer of the desk, and followed the instructions playing out before me. Once I was done, I tried it on the filing cabinet.

It didn't work. Aggravated, I threw both the paperclips onto the floor after my third try and slammed my back into the chair. My eyes caught sight of the paperclips, twisted, looking like a paperclip shouldn't look, and I rose from the chair, picking them up. I couldn't just leave them on the floor like that. If my dad saw them, there was a chance he'd understand what they'd been used for. And of course, he'd blame me.

I opened the top drawer again placed the paperclips inside. I was just about to close it, when I noticed something I must've missed earlier. There was a file in the drawer.

I picked up and … It was Kevin's.

I glanced around, convinced this was too good to be true. No way my father had just left it here. It was planted, and someone stood just outside the door, waiting for me to slip up and read it. Break confidence. Do something I wasn't supposed to.

I stood for a while, just holding it. But nothing happened. No one came rushing in pointing fingers at me. I looked at the closed file, and frowned.

His name was written on the top in bold letters, but beneath it I could read the words: _Capture Request_.

Capture request? I'd never seen a file like this before. My fingers practically itched as I opened it.

His picture was on it, as was his name. It offered a brief summary of him, saying he was highly dangerous and in immediately request to be apprehended. _Alive_. I saw a contact number, but no name, from the person who'd requested him to be captured. I frowned again, thinking it over.

Had someone sent this to my father? Why? I didn't know he did this. I only though he took in the criminals and imprisoned them. Did he really have this side-job as an unofficial bounty hunter? Wasn't Kevin an inmate? _Had _he been telling the truth? That he didn't belong? He wasn't bad?

Of course he was bad. Someone out there wanted him off the streets so badly, they'd hired my father to do it. Something on the page caught my eye, and I did a double take. _Twenty thousand dollars?_ They were offering twenty thousand dollars for this guy. I guess not only his diet was special. _He_ was special. He must be, if someone wanted to pay that amount.

I heard footsteps, and I closed the file, placing it back into the drawer and closing it. Just as I stood up from the chair, Karl, one of the head guards, entered the office. He seemed surprised to see me, but gave me a kind smile.

"Hi there," he said walking over to me.

"Hi, Karl," I said. "I was looking for my father. Do you know where he is?"

Karl walked passed me and to chock, he opened the drawer with the file. He reached inside and picked it out. He turned to me.

"He's caught up in work right now, Leah. Sent me to get this," he waved the file in the air. "I don't think he'll be long though."

"Why does he want that?" I asked.

Karl walked past me.

"No idea," he said. "I have to go. He's waiting."

He waved to me, and I waved back as he left the office.

I wanted to sneak after him, to find out what was going on, but I had to go to the kitchen, so I did that instead.

This time, I knocked and popped in directly after. Kevin was on his bed. He glanced at me briefly before closing his eyes. He pointed to the closed eyelids and then made a thumbs up. _I'm not looking_.

I walked over to him and put his bag down on the bed. Then, I sat myself down on it. When he noticed my weight, he opened his eyes and looked at me questionly. I met his gaze.

"I know what I said," I told him. "But I need to ask you something."

He straightened.

"Shoot."

I glanced at the door, fearing someone would stroll by and hear us, but everything was quiet from the other side. I looked back at Kevin.

"You said you were kidnapped?"

"Yeah," he answered. "I said that."

"You said someone wanted you as a lab rat?"

"I said that too."

I bore my gaze into his, trying my hardest to look as serious as possible.

"Tell me the truth, Kevin. Were you lying?"

His face turned just as serious.

"No. I wasn't."

There was a hint of pleading in his voice, like he was begging me to believe him. I had to look away from him, because I started to feel like I was.

"And …", I continued. "You're not evil?"

A small laugh.

"Most definitely not evil," he said.

I looked at him.

"Then why do they want you so bad?"

He gave me a confused look.

"Who?" he asked.

Since I didn't know the answer to that question, I told him something I _did_ know.

"Someone is offering my father twenty thousand dollars for you. That's why you're here, I think. Someone hired him to get you."

Kevin became thoughtful for a while. Then, he let out a small laugh again.

"I could see that happening. Twenty grand. Seems reasonable."

"But why?" I asked

He stood up from the bed and leaned against the wall, looking at me. Inspecting me, it almost seemed.

"They want us all," he finally said. "Well, most of us at least." He laughed again, his gaze traveling to nothing in particular, having an internal moment in his head. "If they're offering twenty grand for _me_," he looked back at me. "I can only imagine the amount for Derek. Or Chloe. Maybe even Tori. They're all more important than me."

He didn't say it solemnly, just as a fact.

"Who?" I asked, confused at the new names.

He looked at me in that playful way again.

"My rescuers. The one's who'll break me out."

"So there really are people coming for you?"

"Of course," he said. "They wouldn't just leave me. They're probably out there this second, trying to find a way in. They have been since the second I was taken."

I looked at him doubtfully.

"They're family," he said. "Family doesn't give up."

I had to look down at his words. My thought rushed to _my_ family. My father. He'd given up. He'd never even tried. If I was taken away from him, he's probably just adopt another child. A better child.

I felt the bed move beside me, and looked up to meet Kevin's gaze.

"You could come with," he said. "Leave this place. You said you wanted to. Maybe we won't go to New York or London right away, but maybe someday. We go everywhere."

I gaped at him. I was at a loss for words. Was he serious? Did he really want me to come with him? To his family? I'm ashamed to admit the thought wasn't completely negative to me. I _did_ want to leave. I really did. But how could I? Even if I dreamt about it, fantasized, the idea scared me. I'd never been anywhere else. This was my home. My life.

I looked away from him.

"I'd never do that. I'm still not sure you're not evil."

He laughed, and we lapsed into silence. I picked at my fingernails, uncertain what to do. I had to continue along with the cart, but for some reason I didn't want to leave. The next words I spoke, took me by surprise.

"Tell me about them," I said.

"Who?"

"Your family."

"Oh," he said." Well, there's my dad, Christopher Bae, and my brother, Derek. Dad's a sorcerer, like me, and Derek's …" he glanced at me, hesitantly, then said, "A werewolf."

I guess he'd expected me to freak out or something. Werewolf's weren't exactly what a person would assume to be in a normal family. A werewolf would be in pack, or just a family consisting of other wolfs. But I didn't say anything. Kevin continued.

"Then there's Tori. She's my sister. She's kind of new. Not in the existing way, she's always been here, just … New as a sister. We didn't at first. We knew each other, but not that we're related. Yeah, it was hard at first, but I've come to terms with it. It even better now, knowing we're related. It gives me an excuse as to why I can't stand here. There _is_ the small thing with her liking me. Use to like me. But we don't talk about that," he laughed. "Then, there Chloe. She's my sister. Well, sort of. I used like her, but she didn't like me. Not that way anyway. She likes Derek. _Loves_ Derek. Which is great, because he loves her too. It's just … you know, back then. It was hard. When you like someone like I liked Chloe, you really want them to like you back."

He looked at me, his eyes searching my face.

"You know what I mean, right?"

I shook my head.

"I've never liked someone."

He raised his eyebrows.

"Really?"

"Really. I'm the only one around here. My age, I mean."

"That sucks," he breathed. "You really need to get out of here. It's not healty."

I gave him a stern look.

"That's not what I meant," he said. "I just meant, a kid like you should get to have friends, go to school, shop and such."

I looked down.

"I want that," I simply said.

"What about your mom? Doesn't she want you to do those teen girl stuff?"

"I don't have a mom," I said quietly. "Just my dad. I'm adopted. Half-Demon and all."

"Hey," he said. "I know a Half-Demon, adopted like you, and her mom came for here when she needed her. Her biological mom. She …"

I met his eyes, and he silenced.

"I didn't mean to say that _your _mom won't … I just … She's out there maybe. Looking for you even. It can happen."

I looked down.

"She'd dead. My father told me."

There was a brief silence, before Kevin placed a hand on my back.

"Rae was told the same thing. And yet _her_ mom came for her."

I jumped from the bed, startled by the contact.

"Sorry!" Kevin exclaimed. "I shouldn't have–"

"It's okay," I said. "I'm sorry I reacted that way."

Kevin stood up from the bed.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," I said.

"Do you really believe that I'm evil?"

I hesitated. Thinking it over. _Did_ I believe he was evil? I knew I should. He was in this place. But still … I didn't know the reason why. The file hadn't mentioned it. Only that he was dangerous. But he didn't seem dangerous. He seemed. Normal. Kind even.

I met his eyes.

"No," I said quietly. "No. I don't."

He took a step toward me.

"Then do you believe I don't belong here?" he asked.

"I don't know."

He reached out and grabbed my hands, squeezing them lightly.

"Please," he said. "Believe me."

I stared into his eyes. They seemed so honest. I wanted to believe him. So much. And … maybe I did. But what would it matter? There was nothing I could do. My father had control of everything around here. Even if I wanted to help him, I wouldn't even be able to get him out of the main building. Maybe not even past the E-block.

I opened my mouth to say something. Anything. But my mind was too messed up.

Someone cleared their throat behind us, and we both turned to see who it was. My dad stood there, glaring at us. I pulled my hands away from Kevin's.

"Dad!" I exclaimed. "We were just–"

"Go home, Leah," he said, staring at Kevin.

I took a step toward him.

"Dad, what–"

His eyes shot to me, and I silenced. They were filled with … nothing. He looked at me with absolutely no emotion in his eyes. Like I wasn't even there.

"Go. Home," he said before looking back to Kevin. "I need to speak to Simon."

"Simon?" I asked. "No. His name is Kevin. You said–"

My father advanced on me so fast, I didn't even have time to blink before his palm connected with my face. The hit was so hard I fell to the floor, my hip slamming into the concrete. I cried out and found Kevin kneeling above me.

"You okay?" he asked, his eyes wild and chocked. He looked up at my father. "What's wrong with you? She's your daughter!"

My father scoffed.

"She's nothing," he said. "Karl, take her away."

I watched as Karl entered the cell, his hand outstretched. When I didn't take it, he reached down and grabbed my biceps, pulling me up from the floor.

"Come on, Kid. Just go," he said.

I stumbled as he pulled me with him, and looked back at Kevin. He met my eyes, and I could see the pity in them. Then, he looked at my father, his eyes turning cold instead.

"Hello, Simon," my father said. "It's nice to see you."

"Who are you?" Kevin – or, what is Simon really? – spat.

My father smiled at him.

"What do you think?" he said. "I want Saunders, Enright and Souza."

"Well, you're not getting them."

"We'll see about that," my father said.

He turned and looked at Karl.

"Didn't I say to take her away. Now!"

Karl tightened his grip on me and pulled me out of the cell.

"NO!" I yelled, but he was so much stronger than me, that I couldn't do anything but to let him drag me away.

My head twirled with thoughts about my father. The way he'd looked at me. They way he'd slapped me. I couldn't believe he'd done that. I knew he didn't love me, but I'd at least thought he felt _something_ for me. But from what I'd just seen, I knew that wasn't the case. My father didn't love. He didn't hate. He thought nothing of me.

Tears sprang to my eyes and I screamed out all I could, thrashing within Karl's arms. I shot my elbow back, hitting him in the stomach, and he let go of me.

I didn't think. I just ran. But I didn't run away. I ran _back_. I rushed into Kevin's cell, pushed past my father and flung myself at the blonde guy. His eyes widened in surprise as I grabbed hold of him and I heard my father call out my name. I squeezed my eyes shut and thought of the first place that came to mind. I thought so hard, so intently, I actually acquired a headache.

And then … We were gone.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

My head ached. My body ached. My heart ached.

The pain that'd seared when my hip had taken the fall in the cell, increased now as it once again connected with something hard. I groaned and squeezed my eyes shut.

"Hey, kid?" I heard a voice say. Simon's voice.

"Hey …" He paused. "_Leah_," he continued. "Leah, you okay?"

I could feel him touching my shoulders, grabbing me, but very softly.

"You're bleeding," he whispered, seemingly more to himself.

I could feel something under my nose, pressing against my face. It was heavy, thick. I panicked, thinking I was being suffocated. I opened my eyes and could see Simon above me, pressing fabric into my face. I lashed out with both my hands and scratched for his face. He immediately let go of the fabric and pulled back, raising both his hands.

"Whoa!" he exclaimed. "I was only trying to stop the blood!"

I pulled myself up into a sitting position, the heavy fabric falling down into my lap. It was one of my sweatshirts, a small spot of red on it. Red that weren't usually there. I placed two fingers under my nose, and when I pulled them back and looked at them … Blood.

I looked at Simon.

"It's just a nose bleed," I said, wigging the wet fingers in front of him. "Hardly lethal. You were closer to suffocating me than saving me."

"Sorry, I freaked," he said, his voice higher than usual. "It was all so … sudden."

I stood up, brushing my fingers against my jeans, smearing the blood.

"For you too, huh?" I asked.

"I thought you said you _couldn't_ teleport? More than a few feet, I mean."

"I can't."

He looked around him.

"Where are we?" he asked.

"My room," I said, going over and sitting down on my bed.

"And where's that."

I smiled at him, a weak smile.

"A hell of a lot longer than a few feet away," I said.

"Then you _can_–"

I raised one hand, stopping him short.

"I don't know how I did it, but I did. Do you really want to stand here discussing possibilities, or do you want to come up with a plan?"

"Plan," he said.

He walked to where I sat and placed himself beside me on the bed.

"Thank you," he said. "_So_ much."

I met his gaze.

"Don't thank me yet. I've still not decided I'm doing the right thing here, and even if I do, there's still that little thing with getting out of here."

He frowned.

"But we're not in the prison anymore, right?"

"Right," I said, standing up and walking over to my closet. "But we're still in the area. We're still in the forest. We're still inside the barriers." I opened the closet and bent down, pulling out my sport bag. "And my dad's still around. And the guards. And the zombies. And the–"

"Zombies?" he interrupted, appearing beside me.

I glanced up at him, then pushed past him, going back to the bed. I put the bag down, unzipped it and walked back to the closet. I began looking through the clothes on the hangers, trying to find anything that would be considered convenient.

"My dad is a necromancer," I said. "One of his security efforts involves several dead people he's buried around this place. Not deep, just enough for them to dig themselves up if he wants them to."

I decided on three tees, one thick sweatshirt and a dress. Maybe that wasn't the best choice, but I believed that – even if the weather was cold and closing in on winter – every girl should always have a dress.

"He'll surely call them now," I said as I carried my choices over to the bed and stuffed them into the bag. "They're probably up and about as we speak."

I walked over to my dresser and opened the top drawer. I plucked out plenty of underwear and went back to the bag.

"We should hurry," I said and stuffed the underwear into the bag. "He'll surely come here, and it's not a long walk from the main building." I turned to him. "Help me pack?"

The next three minutes were spent with me telling Simon what I needed, and him collecting it from throughout the house as I finished up in my bedroom. When he returned, I stuffed everything into the bag and zipped it close. I then hurried us into the hallway.

"So I guess this means you're coming with me?" he asked as we stepped out on the porch, smiling at me.

"I guess so," I said. "I mean, without _me_, you'd have no chance of getting out."

"I think I'd manage," he said, his voice confident.

I raised my eyebrows at him and slung the sport bag over my chest, adjusting it slightly so the strap didn't dig into my shoulder.

"Yeah?" I said. "What's the plan?"

"I'll sneak past the zombies, they're not fast, I've seen plenty," he explained as I led him around my house. "And then I'll run for it. I'm sure the others aren't far, so I'll have help once I find them."

Someone shouted. I froze and shot around, scanning the area. The voice had been distant, probably just outside the main building, and whoever it was probably hadn't seen us all the way over here, but I still gestured for Simon to be quiet and let him into the shadows.

We walked along the wall, as close as we could, and finally we reached the back yard. I looked all around me, seeing no one, and then pulled at Simon's sleeve, guiding him across the yard and in behind the first few trees.

We'd reached the forest now.

"And what about the barriers?" I asked as we hurried further into the darkness. "There's magical barriers all around this place, hindering anyone from going inside, or out."

"I'm a sorcerer, I'll take them down."

I couldn't help it. I scoffed.

"Really? You would? How?" I asked.

Simon hesitated, then he started: "I don't know. I guess … uh–"

"The barriers are created by three very old, very powerful sorcerers, and two, very old, very powerful witches," I explained, my tone a little bit patronizing. "Can you manage that?"

He sighed, hard. Annoyed.

"So what's your plan then?" he snapped, then, "Sorry, didn't mean to snap at you."

"It's okay," I said. "My plan is _me_."

"You?" he asked, confused. "Your plan is you?"

"Exactly."

We continued in silence for a while, before he asked: "How?"

I thought I heard something crack in the forest, and I stopped, grabbing his sleeve again.

"Shh! I think I hear something," I said, crouching down behind a large rock. Simon did the same and he stayed quiet as I scanned the forest.

It was hard, being so dark and all. I turned my head to the side and listened. I heard it again. Someone was walking, not far from us. I turned to Simon.

"I can get past the barrier," I whispered so quietly, I didn't think he'd heard me.

But he whispered right back, "You can? For real?"

"For real. I tried it when I was eleven, and it worked. I can teleport right through it."

"Then why didn't you leave? Why didn't you just run away?"

"Where would I go?" I whispered. "This place is all I know. I'd be lost out there."

His eyes filled with something I couldn't make out, and he opened his mouth to say something, when a loud crack not far from where we were hiding made us both shut up.

My heart slammed inside my chest as I watched the person closing in on us. At first I'd thought it was one of the zombies, but it was obvious by the way the figure moved, that it wasn't.

I felt Simon place a hand on my shoulder as he leaned closer to me, whispering in my ear.

"I can use a spell, knock-back, or binding, and we'll run," he suggested.

I was going to agree with him. That seemed like a good idea. But I shook my head, noticing _who_ the person was, just as he turned toward us, his eyes meeting mine.

For a moment, we just stared at each other, none making any move at all. It was like the entire forest had silenced. Only me and him. His eyes were wide and narrowed at the same time somehow, his gaze calculating, yet confused.

"Karl," I whispered.

Karl took a step toward us, his hand placing itself on the walkie talkie attached to his belt.

"Please!" I said, my voice hushed and desperate. "Please, Karl."

He hesitated, looking at me, conflicted. I could see it in his eyes. He didn't want to do it. He wanted to let us go. Let _me _go.

His eyes shot to Simon, the back at me.

"He okay?" he asked.

I knew he wasn't asking if Simon had acquired any injuries. Karl didn't care about Simon, I knew that. He cared about me, and he was asking if I thought Simon was good. If I trusted him.

I took a deep breath. I didn't know for sure if I believed that about Simon, but so far he'd done nothing to hurt me. He'd even let me go with him. He hadn't just tossed me aside the second I'd brought him out of his cell.

I nodded slowly, deciding that even _if_ Simon had been lying to me, this little escape of ours had really turned my head around. I _wanted_ to go. I _wanted_ to get away from here. I _wanted_ … I just wanted.

"He is," I whispered.

Slowly, Karl moved his hand from his walkie talkie, taking another step toward me. But before he could reach me someone shouted, and he took a quick step back and turned his head in the direction of the voice.

"You've seen anything?" A voice asked.

The person was closing in on us, and I saw Karl take another step away from the stone we were hiding behind.

"Nothing," he said, his voice loud and serious. "I don't think they went this way. We should–"

"We have to get out of the forest," the other person hurried to say. I could hear it was a woman, her voice almost worried. "He's released the prisoners."

"What?" Karl snapped, anger in his voice. "Why?"

"I have no idea," the woman said. "Something about the kid that's with Leah. He told the prisoners that if they catch him, they'd be free to go."

"Is he crazy!" Karl exclaimed. "He can't do that! Leah's out here! They could hurt her!"

The woman let out a small laugh that made my insides turn.

"I don't think Winters would care about that," she said. "Now come on, let's go."

"But Leah–"

"Forget the kid, Karl!" the woman interrupted. "We have to go."

Karl hesitated, his gaze landing on me, his eyes wide and scared. I could hear woman step forward.

"What are you–"

"Nothing," Karl said before she could finish the question, turning to look at her. "You're right. Let's get back."

I could hear the woman start walking away, and noticed Karl was reaching down to his belt again. He started walking after her, taking something off his belt. It was a gun. My heart jumped and for a moment and I actually thought he was going to shoot us, but he didn't even point the thing at us. He just kept walking after her and discretely dropped the gun to the ground before disappearing after the woman.

I waited for a few extra seconds after the sound of their footsteps had disappeared, then I stood up and walked over to the gun.

I picked it up, the item feeling heavy and weird in my grasp. I'd never held a gun before, let alone fired one. Even if Karl had left this for me, I had no idea how to use it.

A hand placed itself on my elbow and I looked at Simon.

"I don't know how to …" I said.

Simon offered a soft smile.

"I do," he said, holding his hand out.

I hesitated for only a second before giving him the gun. He took it and then placed a hand on my shoulder.

"We should get going. If what they said is true–"

"Then we _really_ need to get out of here," I finished.

I went back to the stone and reached for my bag, but Simon took it before I could, slinging the strap over his chest. He smiled at me again, and I smiled back.

"Come on," he said. "What way?"

I led him deeper into the forest, trying to ignore that awful feeling in my gut; a mixture of fear and betrayal. My father had set the prisoners free, with the goal to find Simon. To find _me_. He must understand what this means. The prisoners wouldn't hesitate to kill me. _I _ knew that. _He_ knew that. I pushed back the tears.

He just didn't care, I thought. He didn't even care if I lived or died. All he cared about was himself, his stupid prison and … I glanced over at Simon.

"Why?" I asked.

Simon looked down at me.

"Why what?" he asked.

"Why does my father want you so badly?"

Simon looked away from me, focusing on the ground as we hurried along.

"I don't know, Leah," he said. "I don't think he wants _me_. He said he wanted the others. I don't know why," he looked back at me, "and I don't care. I just want to get out of here. I'm sick of being hunted."

A pang of jealousy filled my heart. It felt wrong, but still … I couldn't help wondering what was so special about them that _I_ couldn't offer. If my father asked, I'd do anything for him. I'd _done_ anything for him. Everything he'd ever asked me to do, I'd done. What would it take for me to gain – _be worthy _– of his love?

I wanted to get more out of Simon. I wanted him to explain to me what it was about those people that would make my own father sacrifice my life for. But I didn't say anything more. Our top priority was to get to the barrier, not to have me asking annoying questions.

I noticed Simon was beginning to take the lead, his tall frame and long legs way more efficient then mine at the moment, and I gently tugged at the back of his shirt. He didn't stop, just slowed down and glanced back at me, eyebrows raised in question.

"Do you know the way?" I asked, my tone ironic.

"Oh, right," Simon said, giving me a sheepish smile. "Go on," he added and placed a hand on my back, gently pushing me in front of him. "But hurry!"

"I'm going as fast as I can," I muttered without looking back at him.

As I'd told Simon earlier, I'd been by the barrier before. Plenty of times, actually. And I _had_ managed to teleport through it, I hadn't been lying about that – but what I hadn't told Simon, was that I'd ever only done so at one particular spot. I'd tried it at several different locations, but for some reason I'd only been able to pass through the barrier at one place.

The reason why I hadn't told him this was because it didn't really matter. I could easily find my way there, so I'd found no reason to explain this and maybe cause some unnecessary distress on Simon's part.

I noticed the first marking after about three minutes after we'd stopped talking. It hung from a low tree branch, the small stone glued to the silver seemed even darker than the last time I'd seen it. I stopped in front of the tree and reached out, barely touching the small ring with my fingertips. I could feel Simon come to stand behind me.

"What's that?" he asked.

I dropped my hand, watching as the ring dangled from side to side from the contact.

"I don't know," I said. "I mean, I know _what _it is, I just …"

"What?"

I turned to face him.

"I don't know where it came from," I told him. "One day I woke up, and there it was. On my bedside table, inside a small box."

"Someone gave it to you?" he asked.

"At first I thought it was my dad, I mean, it _was_ my birthday and all, but it wasn't from him."

"How do you know?"

I smiled, one of those non-smiles, "Because when I showed it to him he yelled at me, took the ring and hid it. Told me I couldn't have it. Ever. So when I finally found it, I hid it here."

Simon glanced at the ring.

"Not the best hiding place," he said. "Kind of … _open_."

I let out a small laugh.

"No one comes out here. Only me. I like forest. Besides, I had to use something as a marking."

"Marking?"

Oh. I hadn't meant to say that. I still didn't want to have to explain about that.

"But I love it, though," I said, deciding to completely ignore his question and glancing back at the ring. "I don't know why, but I've always had this fantasy that … Never mind. It's stupid. Come on, it's this way."

I started walking again, heading the way I knew to be to the next marking. Simon caught up with me after a few seconds, falling into step with me, keeping my pace.

"You can tell me, you know," he said.

I looked at him.

"Tell you what?"

"What you were about to say back there. About the ring."

I looked away, ashamed.

"I don't know," I said. "It's really dumb."

He laughed.

"Please, my whole life is dumb."

I couldn't help but to smile at that.

"Don't laugh, okay?"

"Cross my heart," he said.

"I have this idea, well, _fantasy_, that the ring is from my mother. I know it's stupid, I just like to think that she was there. With _me. _If only for a second, to drop of a birthday present."

"That's not dumb at all, Leah. For all you know she _was _there. Maybe she even wanted to stay, but couldn't."

His words made the tears threaten at my eyes again, and I swallowed, forcing the sadness back into hiding. I suddenly felt really regretful that I'd left the ring hanging there. I should have taken it with me. I mean, it wasn't like I would ever come back here. But I also understood that I couldn't go back for it now. We _had_ to keep going. Get to barrier.

"Maybe," was all I said.

We continued in silence, me leading the way and Simon patiently keeping to my pace. I could tell by the way he moved that he wanted to go faster, maybe even run. I felt like a stupid kid. Too weak and slow. He was even carrying my bag and still he wanted to up the pace. Just because I felt like a total setback, I forced myself to walk a little faster.

When we reached the second marking, I didn't stop. This item had nothing of value to me, just a silver spoon I'd stolen from the kitchen in the main building. Why I'd stolen it, I didn't know. I'd just had one of those moments of teen rebellion, feeling I had to do something I wasn't supposed to. It was the same day that I'd stolen the spoon that I decided to mark the way to the part of the barrier I could teleport through. The spoon had simply been in my pocket once I was marking the way.

It wasn't long until we reached the third and final marking. I stopped by the tree, briefly glancing at the name carved into the stem – my own – before turning to Simon. There was something I needed to ask him. Something I needed to make sure of. The thought that my suspicions might be right, created a sickening feeling in my gut.

"Are you going to ditch me?" I asked.

Simon seemed surprised, his eyes meeting mine, a flicker of confusion within his gaze.

"What?" he asked. "Why would I ditch you? _You're _the one who can get me out. I'd be stupid to just leave you behind."

"I know that," I said. "It's just … Once I've gotten you past the barrier, I won't be of any use. I'll just be a kid, lost in a world I've never experienced before. I'll be in the way."

Simon placed both his hands on my shoulders and leaned down, meeting me at eye level.

"I told you you could come, didn't I? I _want_ you to come. You're my friend now. And I never leave friends behind."

He smiled at me, but I still didn't feel sure he was telling the truth.

"You said you have others. A family. What if _they_ don't want me along?"

"Of course they will! You're super cool, Leah. They'll love you."

A laugh escaped my lips.

"You think I'm super cool?" I asked.

Simon shrugged.

"Sure," he said. "I mean, you broke me out of prison. That's pretty cool, you know."

He released my shoulders and straightened, smiling at me again.

"I promise, Leah, I won't ditch you. Now come on, show the way."

And I did. Show the way, I mean. When we neared the barrier, it was almost as if I could sense it there. Even though it wasn't visible, I _knew_ it was there. Probably because I actually did know it was there, but still, I allowed myself to dream of having this special connection to the magic, something I liked to do from time to time. But, of course, I didn't tell Simon that.

"Stop," I said when we were only a few feet from the barrier.

Simon did as I said and I took a step forward, reaching out my hand and holding my palm out in the air, reaching forward until I could feel the cold, firm surface of the barrier.

"We're here," I told Simon. "Feel it."

Simon did as I told him and mirrored my position, slowly placing his hand against the barrier.

"It feels like glass," he said. "Like a giant, invisible window. Like we could just smash it."

He glanced at me.

"We can't," I said.

"Come on, then," he said. "Do your thing."

I looked down at my feet, inspecting the ground. This wasn't right. I looked around me until I saw the three stones, lying side by side, right by the barrier.

"Over here," I said and walked over to them.

Simon followed me and he was just about to say something, when a loud crack echoed from behind us. We spun simultaneously, seeing the three, withering zombies not more than three meters from where we stood. They moved with ragged steps, their mouths open and their eyes blazing with anger, hate, disgust. As if _we_ were the ones who's insides were showing.

I screamed, taking a step back, but restrained by the invisible wall behind me. Simon swore and raised the gun toward them. He fired, the bullet hitting the center zombie – a tall woman with a large hole through her stomach, making it possible to see right through her – in the arm. She didn't even flinch. She just kept advancing on us, along with the other two. Simon fired again, but missed.

"Now!" he yelled, grabbing my arm. "Go now!"

It took a second for me to understand what he meant, being scared to death as I was by the horrid creatures. I turned to him, meeting his eyes, and then I thought back to the cell, when I'd thrown myself at him before we'd both transported. I didn't want to take any chances, so I lunged myself at his chest, closing my arms around his torso and turning my eyes to the barrier again, to really see where I wanted to go, and focused on moving the two of us to that place.

But before I could, I saw the large creature on that other side. The large, menacing monster, which would rip us both to shreds the second we passed through the barrier.

It had its teeth bared, and its eyes were just as furious as the zombies. It stared at me, snarling at me. I screamed, and pushed myself away from Simon, too scared and chocked to really understand what I was doing. Before I knew it, I'd pushed myself onto the ground.

"Leah!" Simon called and reached for me.

But it was too late. Cold bony fingers were already on me. Grabbing me. Pulling me. Hurting me. I screamed again, the sound almost disappearing into the loud growl from the creature on the other side.

We hadn't made it. We'd been caught. I should've known my father wouldn't have made sure to have something _outside_ the barrier as well. We were trapped. On this side, we had the zombies, the guards and the recently released prisoners, desperate to catch us.

On the side – ready to kill us – stood the wolf.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Everything was happening so fast. I couldn't keep up. I was being dragged; cold, bony fingers digging painfully into my flesh, scraping me, creating smaller wounds. There were more now. Zombies, I mean. I couldn't make out the exact number, but I knew there were more than just the three. I had two grabbing at my arms and throat, and at least three were pulling at my legs and torso. Simon was screaming, and his face appeared in my sight, eyes wide and mouth open, spilling out rushed words I couldn't make out. When I finally managed to catch what he was saying, I heard:

"It's not working, Leah! I can't do magic! I thought–"

He stopped, his head spinning around for something else that'd caught his attention. His arms shot out, pointing at me, but his gaze was still elsewhere.

"Stop them!" he called. "Hurry, Chloe! Make them stop!"

I heard another voice then, a female one, but her words were drowning out by the loud snarls from the wolf and the clicking of teeth and bones coming from my attackers. I could feel a sharp pain appear in my shoulder. Screaming so loud it hurt my lungs, I bent my head to the side to see the dead female with the hole through her stomach, her face lowered above my shoulder, blood seeping out from under it. When she raised her head, I could see the oozing flesh wound, new on my shoulder. I screamed again as she snapped her head upwards, teeth chattering together and a loud, guttural sound escaped her throat before she began to lower again. Her mouth toward my skin.

"Stop."

The woman did as she'd been told. Her eyes widened and she looked away from me, a low snarl passing her lips as she glared at something, hatred filling her every feature.

"Stop," the voice said again – that female voice from before. Her voice was so calm, concentrated, and I tried to lift my head to get a glimpse of her, to see who it was that could speak to this monster, and actually have it listen.

"Leave," I heard the voice say. "Go home."

Before I could grasp what the words meant – I mean, these were dead people buried in a forest. They didn't have homes – the woman's head snapped back to me, and she once again bared her teeth, preparing to bite me.

"Don't listen to him!" the voice said, louder now, almost angry. "Do as I say! Go! Leave this."

The dead woman's eyes shifted from my skin to look back at the speaker. I stared at her face, at the blood – _my_ blood – that stained her mouth. I could feel the hold of the others weaken around my limbs. Suddenly the woman's eyes rolled back in her sockets, and she fell to the ground, her body stiffening briefly before going completely limp. Then she just lay there. Dead. Not living dead, but actually dead.

I could hear the thuds of the others, falling to the ground, dying, even though they were already dead. When I felt new hands on me, I freaked, lashing out to defend myself, but when I saw Simon hovering above me, I forced myself to calm down.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice deeply worried and stressed, almost panicked. "Let me see."

His hand placed itself just below my new shoulder wound. Even though he didn't even touch the injury itself, just the skin around it, I still jerked away and let out a cry of pain.

"Sorry!" he exclaimed, pulling his hand back and placing it against my cheek instead. "Leah, talk to me. Please."

I stared at him, trying to speak. But I couldn't. I was still too scared. I rolled my head to the side, finally able to see the woman.

She was small, almost as short as me, but I knew she was older than my fourteen years. I could see it on her face; the seriousness of her gaze, the stiffness in her lips. She had to be around Simon's age. She wasn't a child, like me, even if her blond hair and blue eyes made her appear youthful and innocent.

On a normal day, even with her frightening stare, I don't think she would've scared me. But this wasn't a normal day. _She_ wasn't normal. The mere sight of her chilled my bones.

Because beside the woman, stood the wolf, still snarling and patting his paws against the soft ground. The fact that she didn't even react to his presence created a sickening feeling in my stomach. Any second now the wolf could jump her, bite her head off.

But she didn't even seem to care.

"Is she alright?" the woman asked, her eyes shifting to where Simon hunched above me.

I looked back at Simon.

"Leah?" he asked, grabbing my face gently within both his hands. "Leah, speak. Please."

I opened my mouth, trying to force at least a syllable out from my throat, but when the wolf huffed violently, the fear increased. I let out a small yelp and tried to squirm further away from the beast, but the pain in my shoulder didn't allow me to do so. I fell back onto my back, squeezing my eyes shut as the pain seared all the way down my arm and chest.

"Dammit, Derek! You're scaring her!" Simon yelled. "Would you shut up?"

The wolf silenced almost immediately.

"Leah?" Simon asked. "Leah, open your eyes. It's okay. It's okay, I promise. He won't hurt you." I opened my eyes as Simon continued, "Remember I told you about my family? That's Derek, my brother. He would never hurt you. Believe me."

I stared into his eyes. He seemed sincere enough, but that still didn't remove the fear I felt for the large animal. But I _did_ remember what he'd told me, and I _did_ believe him, so deciding that my fear had to be ignored, for now, I tried to sit up, Simon gently placing a hand behind my back as he helped me.

"Can you stand?" he asked.

"I think so," I said, grimacing at the pain in my shoulder, increasing with even the smallest movement of my body. "Maybe if you help." I tried to smile, but didn't really manage a real one. Simon, however, seemed to be smiling for the both of us. Even if it wasn't a happy smile, it was still a smile. Comforting. Reassuring. Which was probably the idea behind it.

After he'd pulled me to my feet, I glanced over at the young woman again. She met my eyes, and she too smiled, giving a little wave with one hand.

"Hi," she said. "I'm Chloe."

"Leah," I gave back.

Chloe opened her mouth to say something more, but before she could, the wolf – _Derek_ – huffed beside her. It sounded almost annoyed. My hold on Simon's arm tightened automatically.

"I think that translates into: Introductions later, escape plan now," he said, chuckling beside me, but stopped abruptly when someone shouted behind us.

We both swung around, and I scanned the forest. My heart started racing again when I saw the many figures moving through the trees. _The inmates_. They'd all found us.

I turned to Simon, and he was already looking at me.

"I know," he said. "Hurry."

I nodded, grabbed his hand and searched the ground for the stones again. Simon saw them first, pulling me along with him until we stood right above them. Once again, I hugged him tightly, staring at the spot right outside the barrier. Placing my hand against the cool, glass-like surface, I tried to imagine myself pushing through it. My concentration briefly broke when someone shouted my name – in that drawn out, totally crazy evil villain way – but I did my best to ignore it and regained focus.

And then it happened. At the same second we crashed into the ground, one of the prisoners slammed into the barrier, the invisible wall pushing him backward. I looked as more of them did the same thing, and couldn't help feeling a little amused. It just looked so funny; person after person doing the exact same thing the one before had done, no one seeming to understand that it wouldn't work. It brought a memory to my mind, a quote from Albert Einstein: _Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results._

And that's what it all looked like: Insanity. The way their bodies moved screamed insanity. The way their eyes blazed screamed insanity. The words they screamed at us … Well, maybe not insanity as much as just downright rude.

I hadn't realized that I was still holding on to Simon, and quickly detached myself from him, pulling back. He met my gaze, and offered another smile. I was just about to smile back, when his eyes left my face, and his smile expanded into something I couldn't ever imagine being on the receiving end of.

He was on his feet before I could react, Chloe throwing herself into his arms. Is stood up to, trying not to stare at the two of them.

"I was so worried!" she exclaimed, her voice so different from the controlled, focused tone she'd used earlier. "Liz tried reaching you but she couldn't get in your … She said you were in a cell. Oh, God, I could only imagine what they did to you."

Simon chuckled, hugging her back.

"Actually," he said. "It was quite nice. Sort of like a short vacation from all the craziness." His eyes met mine. "And the company wasn't so bad either."

I smiled, then scowled as someone shouted a very, _very_, bad word from behind me.

"We should get …" I stopped. Once again I felt that tugging fear in my gut, realizing we were finally outside the barrier. We'd done it. But were we still a _we_? Now, that I'd helped Simon get away, even if he'd promised he wouldn't abandon me, was I still included in the we? Or was it them, and me?

Simon pulled back from Chloe, his eyes searching the faces of the many prisoners.

"Yeah," he said. "We should get going." He looked back at Chloe. "Dad?

"Back at the van, with Lauren and Tori. It's not far. We can–"

Her words were interrupted by a loud snarl. I realized it came from Derek, and when I turned to look at him, his teeth was bared, and he was facing the barrier. Following his gaze, I realized that they inmates had all vanished. No banging, no screams. It was silent again. But I still took several steps backward, not even caring that it was in the direction of Derek. It didn't matter how scary he was, because on the other side of the barrier stood something even _more_ scary than a werewolf.

My dad.

"Leah …" he said, breathing my name as if I'd been caught with my hand down the cookie jar, making him disappointed in me. "What _are_ you doing?"

I didn't have time to answer him, because before I could, Simon stepped closer to the barrier.

"She's doing what she always should've!" he snapped. "Getting the hell away from _you!_"

My father didn't even look at him. Instead he kept his gaze directly on me, his face showing more emotion than I'd ever seen before. And it wasn't the kind of emotion I would've expected under the circumstances. No rage, no disgust. No. He looked at me … almost _fondly._

I couldn't speak. I couldn't even do anything. All I could do was stand there, watching the kind smile on my father's lips. Simon was still yelling at him, but I didn't register a single word.

My father put his hand out, palm flattening in the air against the invisible shield, saying, "Look what you can do, Sweetheart." His voice was filled with so much pride it started aching in my chest. "And the cell? How far did you go? The lobby? _Outside?_"

It was as if my mouth was working on his own, as I answered, "My room," so quietly I didn't even expect him to hear it. But he did, and he beamed at me.

"Extraordinary, Leah! And with another person following along. I can see great things for you in the future, Sweetheart. I am so proud."

I took a step forward, not really aware of the action.

"_Really_?" It came out high-pitched, a desperate word.

"Of course!" my dad said, taking his hand off the barrier. "I love you, Sweetheart. So much."

One more step forward. "You do?"

"Of course I do. Leah, you are more important to me than _anything_."

I thought I was going to cry. A lump formed in my throat and I could feel the way my eyes widened with anticipation. This was it. This was what I'd always wanted. My father was finally telling me he loved me! That he was proud of me! Everything would be fine from now on. He was going to respect, love, and be there for me! He…

"If you love her so damn much, then why did you tell your zombies to bite her freaking arm off? Can't you see she's really hurt?"

It was Simon that'd spoken. His voice brought me back to the present, and I realized that I was acting crazy. I couldn't let my father do this to me. For years now he'd used me as nothing but an employee at his precious prison, never _truly_ cared for me. Why would he start now, just because I'd manage to transport a little further than normal?

I glanced at my shoulder, seeing the wound, realizing the pain had disappeared as my mind had been caught up with what my dad was saying. The pain was back now though. Big time.

But I didn't allow myself to care. My smile disappeared, and I glared at my father, remembering every bad feeling he'd ever made me feel.

"Simon's right," I said. "You don't love. You never have. You tried to kill me!"

"What I did .., " my father said through clenched teeth, "was trying to keep you from making a huge mistake. I'm sorry if you got hurt, but you only have yourself to blame for that. If you'd simply gone home when I told you too, things wouldn't have escalated–"

"If I'd gone home," I interrupted, "Simon would still be locked up! And he hasn't done anything, Dad! I read his file, I know you were asked to capture him, but it never said _why_! Was it because of the money? Are you really the kind of man who would imprison an innocent guy just to get some more cash in your pocket?"

"Innocent?" my father said, the word almost a laugh. "You think he's innocent? Oh, Leah, please. None of them are _innocent_. This girl," he pointed toward Chloe, "_killed_ a man. Shot him to death. Just like that! And the wolf, Leah, he made sure some young kid got stuck in a wheelchair for the rest of his life. These are _not_ good people Leah, and I swear to you, if you leave with them, you won't be alive for much longer."

I glanced around me. At Derek, at Chloe. At _Simon_. I didn't believe my father, but still … I didn't know these people at all. Even Simon was a stranger to me, in a way. I mean, we'd only shared a few conversations. That didn't exactly make us BFF's.

Derek snarled, and I quickly moved away from him, almost tripping over my own feet, expecting him to charge for me. Kill me, now that their cover had been blown. But when I looked at the wolf, his gaze was at my father, hatred in his eyes.

"Don't listen to him, Leah!" Simon yelled, and I looked at him instead. "We would never hurt you, remember? Please, come with us. You need to get away from here, Leah. Come on, we'll see London, New York. Hell, we'll even go to Alaska. I don't want this for you. You deserve better."

I stared at him.

"I-I don't …" I didn't know what to think.

"He's lying to you," Dad said. "Come back through the barrier and I promise I'll make sure you're safe and that they'll get what they deserve. They're _evil_, Leah. They don't care about you."

I was still looking at Simon.

"We care about you, Leah," he said. "_I_ care about you. I think you're super cool, remember?"

I couldn't help but to smile at the memory.

"What? Slow down!"

Surprised, I looked at Chloe. She was staring into thin air, her posture rigid.

"Oh, my God," she exclaimed. Then, she spun around to face us. "We need to leave! They're taking down the barrier. He stalled us!"

Fur swooshed past me, and before I could blink, Derek was by Chloe's side, growling at Simon, who appeared beside me, grabbing my arm.

"Please," he said, begging, staring into my eyes. "Please, come."

I looked at my father, a pleased smirk on his face.

"Now!" Chloe yelled. "We need to go _right_ now!"

I could see them now. The guards, the zombies. They were all standing in the shadows behind my father, slowly making their way into view. There was so many of them, all waiting for the wall in front of them to fall, so they could get to _us_. Just as the air in front of me started to flash with intense, yellow lightning, I realized that this was _my_ fault. _I'd _been the one to stay back and talk to my dad. Not them. If I hadn't been so desperate for his attention, we could all been far away by now, maybe even inside that van Chloe spoke of earlier. But no. All thanks to me we were about to get attacked by a whole lot of people. And dead people. There had to have been over fifty people charging toward us, dead and alive.

I turned to run, knowing it was pointless, but doing it anyway. But I didn't even get two meters before someone knocked me to the ground. I landed on my hurt shoulder and screamed at the pain. I rolled to the side, only to experience even more pain as my cheek slammed into something cold and hard.

It was the gun. Simon must've dropped it when we transported.

I didn't think about it, just did it. I reached for it, rolling onto my back, pointing the muzzle at the shadow above me, and fired. My hands jerked back, and I almost hit myself with the weapon, but managed to avoid it. I had felt something splatter onto face, and I knew it was blood.

I raised the gun again, ready to shoot a second time if needed, but froze when I saw the man in front of me.

"No …" I croaked, barely managing to say the word.

Karl stood above me, arms hanging at his sides as he stared down at himself. At the bloody spot in the middle of his chest. When he raised his eyes, looking at me, all I saw was chock. His lips moved, as if speaking, but no words came. His eyes were so wide, his face to pale, he could've been one of the zombies.

But he wasn't. He was Karl. Very much alive Karl. Until now. Until I'd shot him.

"No!" I cried, my voice breaking. Tossing the gun away, I got up on my knees as Karl tumbled to the ground. He landed with a hard _thud! _and I leaned over him, pressing my hands against the wound.

"No, no, no!" I cried. "Please! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean it! Please!"

Tears were streaming down my cheeks now, my throat aching so much I thought it would burst open. I stared at Karl's face, his eyes closed, mouth slightly open.

"I'm sorry!" I said, bowing my head down and squeezing my eyes shut. "I'm so sorry …"

I could hear my father shout, Derek growl, Chloe and Simon screaming – but I didn't care. All I cared about was Karl, and how he was going to die today, all because of _me_. I was a murderer. I was no better than the rest of them. I belonged inside the cells along with all the evil inside that prison.

"No! Listen to _me!_ ME!"

I didn't know who my father wanted to listen to him, but I turned my head toward his voice, but something stopped me, causing me to look down at my hands.

Karl's fingers were curled around my wrist, his hold so weak I feared the effort was hurting him even more. I looked at his face, finding that he was looking right back at me.

"It's okay …" he breathed, his eyes closing, opening again. "It's okay, Leah …"

"It's not okay!" I shrieked." I shot you!"

His fingers tightened ever so slightly around my wrist.

"No …" His voice was so soft I could barely hear him. He closed his eyes again, this time not opening them. "No … You're good. I'm good. It's okay … Don't be …"

"Karl?" I shook him, desperately. He coughed, opening his eyes. One of his hands lifted itself, and he gently placed his palm against my cheek.

"I love you, Leah," he said. "Like my own."

My tears fell onto his forehead, and I leaned down, pressing my face into his shoulder. He groaned in pain, but still placed his hand at the back of my head.

"I love you, too," I cried into his jacket. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be. You did good."

"But I killed you."

He didn't answer me, and I felt his chest sink, and still. His hand slid from my hair and landed on the ground, arm outstretched. I lifted my head from his shoulder. His eyes were closed, and I knew.

Karl was dead. But still I grabbed his shoulder and shook him as hard as I could, screaming his name. When someone grabbed my waist, pulling me away from Karl, I tried to hold on to him, but failing. I could hear Simon say my name and telling me we had to go, but I wouldn't listen to him. I screamed for Karl as I watched his body get further and further away from me as Simon dragged me with him. When he swung me around and lifted me up into his arms, I buried my face at the crook of his neck and cried with everything I had. I barely registered when he let go of me, putting me down onto something soft. I could hear people talking, rushed words exchanged between them.

"Leah." Simon pulled me to him, closing his arms around me.

"It's okay, Leah," he said.

"No," I sobbed. "It's not."

Simon kissed the top of my head.

"It will be. I promise."

But I didn't believe him. I'd _killed_ Karl. Nothing was ever going to be okay again. _Ever_.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

I may not have grown up with a lot to talk about, but I've never been quiet for this long. It had been three days since we'd escaped the prison, _my home_, and I still hadn't said a single word. The whole ride, as they drove to whatever place we were currently staying at, I'd stayed within Simon's arms, crying. When we'd arrived, at some run-down motel, he'd led me to one of the rooms and held my hand as some lady he knew patched up my shoulder. I hadn't even thanked her for it.

Later, he'd brought me some food, but all I'd managed to get down was the too sweet lemonade he'd bought from the motel's diner. He'd spoken to me then, but I hadn't even looked at him. Just sipped from the glass, staring blankly at nothing as I thought about Karl.

For three days I sat in that room, on that bed, thinking about Karl. Not even once did I crawl under the covers. I only moved from the spot when I needed to use the bathroom, and the only time I stopped staring at a cracked spot on the wallpaper was when Simon would bring me food, forcing me to at least eat something off the plate, even if it was only a little bit.

For three days I saw his face in front of me. I dreamed about him, about how I'd killed him, about what he'd said. What he'd done. Karl had helped me escape, and how had I thanked him for it? I'd shot him with his own gun.

For three days I sat on that bed hating myself.

For three days … And then it was time to stop.

When I woke up the next morning, I stared at the ceiling for a few minutes. I raised my arm, watching my own fingernails. I'd bitten them down, and they looked horrible. Sitting up, I ran my fingers through my hair, grimacing at the feeling. I _really_ needed a shower.

I swung my legs off the bed, carefully lowering my toes to the wooden floor. It was cold, and felt weird under against my soles. I was walking upon this floor a changed girl today. I wasn't just going to the bathroom today. I was going to _get up._ For real.

I glanced out the window on my way to the open bathroom door. It was sunny, almost too bright for my morning vision, and I squinted and looked away.

The shower felt amazing. I must've been under the running water for over an hour, and when I finally emerged, my fingers looked awfully pruny, making my bitten down fingernails seem even more horrid.

I used the motel's hair dryer to dry my hair, and then put on some fresh clothes that Simon had left on top of the drawer the first night here. Just some grey sweats and a black t-shirt and hoodie. He'd told me that we could go shopping for something else when I felt like it, but I didn't think that would be anytime soon.

As I sat on the end of the bed, tying the laces of the white sneakers Simon had left along with the clothes, the door to my room opened. I looked up to see Simon enter, his back to me as he used his shoulder to push the door open, tray in hand. I was putting my hair into a high ponytail when he turned around and saw me.

"Oh," he said, startled. "You're up."

He walked across the floor, gently placing the tray down on the dresser before coming to sit beside me on the bed. He touched my arm.

"How are you?"

I smiled at him. A small one, but still a smile.

"Not great," I said. "But better. I think."

Simon exhaled, saying, "I'm glad."

I stood up, walking over to the dresser. I took a small carton of orange juice off the tray, pushed the straw through the small silvery circle, and sucked some of the liquid out. I swallowed, and the repeated the process.

"You can eat breakfast with the rest of us if you want," Simon said, standing up from the bed. "The weather's great today."

I eyed him for a moment, emptying the carton and placing it back on the tray. Wiping my mouth against the back of my hand, I said, "I'd like that."

Simon smiled. "Great!"

I only recognized Chloe and the lady who'd fixed my shoulder as Simon showed me to the table. They were all sitting at the large wooden platform attached to the diner, everyone rocking the sunglasses. I looked at the large guy beside Chloe. They were wearing matching Aviators, and his arm was casually slung around the back of her chair as he peered down into a magazine she held in her hands. As Simon pulled out a chair and gestured for me to sit down, Chloe looked up from the magazine and smiled at me.

"Hi, Leah," she said, her voice kind, sweet. "I'm glad to see you're up."

I smiled back at her.

"Hi, Chloe," I said, my gaze landing on the large guy. Chloe noticed me looking.

"Oh. In case you can't see the resemblance," she said, her voice light, joking. She cocked her thumb toward the guy, not looking at him. "This is Derek. I believe he was a little bit _hairier_ the last time you saw him?"

I laughed, but my heart wasn't in it. Derek gave a small nod of acknowledgement.

Simon sat down in the chair next to me, laying his hand on my arm. "Besides Chloe and Derek," he said, gesturing to the older man by the table, "we have my and Derek's dad, Christopher, but he goes by Kit." Kit smile at me, making a curt motion with his fingers, almost as a peace sign, but not really. Simon gestured to the woman beside him, the one who'd bandaged me three days ago. "And this is Lauren. She's Chloe's aunt. And she's kind of …" he stopped, as if thinking it over, before continuing, "well, she's kind of on her way to becoming my stepmom, and Derek's, even though he's kind of with Chloe …" he cleared this throat, moving on to the last person at the table, a dark-haired girl who looked like she was still asleep in some ways, slumped back in her chair, her mouth slightly open. "And this is Tori. Remember what I told you, she's my sister? Well, _half_ sister that is. Mine and Derek's. Though he's not actually related to us, Derek, I mean, we're all still–"

"For the love of God, Simon!" Tori suddenly slumped forward, her elbows hitting the table. She lazily rested her chin on one hand while using the other to grab an apple from a woven basket. She took a bite, then, with her mouth full, said, "Our family's totally confusing, _she gets it!_ Now can you please shut up? I'm not even awake yet and you're already making me want to shoot myself."

My breath caught in my throat, and for a moment, I couldn't breathe.

"Tori!" Simon snapped, his grip tightening on my arm, but only in a reassuring way. But I didn't feel reassured at all. I felt like I was going to throw up.

"What?" Tori asked, lifting her sunglasses from her eyes. "What did I do now? I mean, sometimes …"

She stopped, her eyes travelling from Simon's face, to mine. Tori's mouth created a perfect circle as she breathed, "Ohhh. That's right. You shot that guy."

"Victoria!"

This time, it was Kit that snapped at her. I could feel Simon's gaze on me, but I didn't look at him. Pushing his hand away from me I stood up, the chair scraping along the wood as I did. I heard Simon call after me, and Chloe telling him to let me be. Still, when I'd reached my room and placed my hand on the doorknob, I heard his voice.

"Leah, I'm so sorry about Tori. She can be a real–"

"Don't," I said, interrupting. I looked him right in the eyes, and repeated the word. "Just don't. I want to be alone right now, okay?"

"But–"

"Please, Simon," I said, my voice stern. "Just leave me for a while?"

"But I've left alone for three days, Leah. I'm worried."

I smiled a weak smile. "Then you can put up with a few hours more of worrying." And with that I opened the door, slid in, and made sure to lock myself inside. I could hear him on the other side for a long moment, before he walked away. Not bothering with undressing, I threw myself on the bed.

I'd wanted sleep, but instead I just ended up with a lot of crying. By the time I managed to stop, I realized the sun was almost set when I peered out the window. The beginning of some woods towered a few meter from the glass, and a sudden pang of homesickness filled my stomach. It wasn't for my father, or for rolling the cart up and down the corridors. No, it was for my own room, my own bed, my own things. I missed the tire swing out back at my house, the one Ron had put up for me when I was five. I missed sitting in my living room playing videogames.

But most of all I missed the forest.

I got off the bed and started toward the door, but stopped. Simon would probably know if I left the room. For all I knew he was standing right outside just waiting to comfort me. Broken, little, tiny, Leah. The_ kid_. I wasn't ready for that yet.

Instead I made my way over to the window. It was easy transporting to the other side, and I even landed several meters from the motel, leaving only around one meter to reach the woods. I'd been walking for maybe ten minutes, when I heard movement behind me. At first I decided to ignore it, thinking that Simon had seen me leave after all and decided to follow me. But as another minute past, this nagging thought started to form in my head.

What if it _wasn't_ Simon? What if it was my dad, or someone he'd sent for me? No, for _them_, I corrected myself. He wouldn't send anyone for _me_. He's send someone for _them. _The special ones.

I quickened my pace, causing my breathing to deepen and my footsteps to crackle across the dead leaves and fallen branches. I wanted to be quiet, but I also wanted to get away from whoever was following me, so I kept my pace, reaching out to fling a tree branch out of my face and … I stopped.

I stared at the sight in front of me. It was like the most beautiful place ever, the pond lowered several meters down into the ground, the cliffs creating a glittering wall around it. Not to mention the enormous waterfall right across the large gap, droplets of water hitting me even as I stood farthest away from it.

"Tori wanted to swim in it," a voice spoke behind me, "but she never managed a levitation spell that would allow her to get back up."

I turned around, expecting to find Simon there, but instead my eyes landed on the large guy from earlier. Derek. The werewolf.

It wasn't like I _meant_ to make the noise … but it still came out. A suffocated yelp from somewhere deep in my throat as my eyes scanned the mountain of muscle in front of me. My first instinct was to turn the heck around and run for it, get away from him, but I knew that I didn't have to. Derek would never hurt me, Simon had promised me that.

But still … he was mighty scary to look at.

Derek reached up, rubbing a hand against his face and sighing. "I told them this would happen," he mumbled, lowering his hand and showing it into his pocket. His eyes met mine. "Look, kid," he started, but noticing the look on my face, starting over with, "Look, _Leah. _It's kind of insulting that you're scared of me."

I stared at him. O-kay … Had _not_ seen that one coming.

"I'm not scared of you," I said, trying for my best _'No, promise, I'm not!'_-look. Derek raised his eyebrows at me, but didn't really comment further, just shaking his head, murmuring, "Right. Whatever," before glancing past me at the waterfall.

"Simon told you to follow me."

It wasn't a question. Derek nodded.

"He worries about you, but didn't want to bother you. He knew he'd give himself up the second he stepped into the woods, so he asked me. I'm a little better at keeping the noise to a minimum."

"I still heard you," I said.

"Yeah," Derek breathed. "I noticed. And I'm sorry, for scaring you."

"I wasn't–"

"Everyone's scared sometime, Leah," he interrupted, coming to stand beside me. "You're the youngest now, and we've all been your age at one time. You can't blame us for seeing a child when we look at you. I think even some of us _need_ you around. It gives a good excuse to be the grown up ones, not the kids."

He didn't say who he meant by that, but I didn't push for it either. Instead I turned my gaze back to the water.

"Have you ever killed someone?"

I hadn't meant for the question to actually leave my head, but still it rang past my lips. Derek was silent for a moment.

"I have," he said.

I dared a glance at his face. I couldn't see any emotion.

"Did you mean it?" I asked.

"No, I didn't."

"And Chloe? My dad said she shot–"

Derek spun on me so fast I stumbled back, and for a second I thought I was going to fall off the edge, down toward the water. But Derek grabbed my arm and steadied me.

"She did what she had to!" he snapped, letting me go. "She didn't _want_ it. None of us ever wanted _any_ of this. But we got it anyway, and we have to protect ourselves, and if it sometimes happen to lead to someone's death, than that's how it's got to be. Rather them than us. It doesn't mean that we mean to do it. We don't want that. _I_ … don't want that."

His eyes stayed locked on mine for a few seconds, before he turned away, gazing out over the waterfall. I bit my lip, trying to read his face, bur failing. Finally, I just slumped my head down, staring at my new sneakers, now covered with mud and pine needles.

"I didn't want it either," I whispered, my voice breaking as the tears threatened to appear again. But I forced them back. I didn't want to cry in front of him. Not when he'd already told me how they saw me as nothing but a kid. "I didn't mean to … I thought it would be … Not Karl, I would never–"

Derek placed a hand on my shoulder, giving the tiniest of squeezes. He didn't say anything, but the gesture was enough to calm me down. I sniffled, and swallowed hard.

"Come on," he said, his hand sliding away as he began walking back to the motel. "I'm hungry."

I followed him, trying not to smile at the sullen tone he'd used. Like it was _my_ fault he was hungry. I walked a few yards behind him the whole way, trying to imagine how it would feel to transform into an animal. I even considered asking him, but decided that that might not have been the best of ideas. When we reached the end of the woods, Derek led me back to the diner. Everyone was by the table again, this time rocking coats and jackets instead of sunglasses.

"Late dinner," Chloe said, appearing beside me. She exchanged a look with Derek, a mixture of adoration and something else, and led me over to an empty chair. When she sat down beside me, I could've sworn I saw one of the empty chairs move by itself, but when it stayed still, I deduced it to be my own tired mind playing tricks on me.

"What'd you say," Chloe began, "that you, me, and Tori spend the day at the mall tomorrow? Get you some new clothes, some books, maybe we'll rent a movie. Just us girls. How'd that sound?"

I stared at her, my mouth open.

"I've never been to a mall before," I managed to say after a second of idiotic staring. Chloe laughed, saying, "Then you really _have_ to go with us. It'll be a blast. I promise. What'd you say?"

I glanced over at Tori sitting across from us at the table. She smiled at me, nodding her head. I turned back to Chloe.

"Yeah," I said. "I guess I can give it a shot."

Chloe beamed at me, and Tori said, "Told ya, no fourteen-year-old can say no to the mall."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Even though I'd told myself that I wasn't going to be able to enjoy it, I had to admit that I was kind of exited. For the first time in my life I was going to an actual mall. _For real_, not just in the fictional sense.

I was dressed in the same clothes I had on yesterday, and was combing through my hair as someone knocked on my door.

"Come in!" I called.

Simon peeked in, one hand covering his eyes. "You decent?"

I laughed.

"Sure," I said, putting the brush down on the dresser and giving myself one last glance in the mirror. My hair looked longer than normal, but I figured I was just imagining it, _wanting_ it to be longer. My freckles seemed more dominant today, as they sometimes did when I'd spent time in the sun, and I frowned at that as I turned to face my new friend. I didn't like my freckles. I thought it made my skin look dirty sometimes.

"So …" Simon said, smiling. "You exited?"

I walked over to the bed, sitting down and gesturing for him to join me. He did.

"I actually am," I said. "I mean, I know I shouldn't be, but–"

Simon placed a hand over mine, stopping me from finishing the sentence.

"Of course you should," he said softly. "You have every right to be happy, Leah. And as a teenage girl, I think a trip to the mall is included in the happy-package."

"Thanks. So, are the others ready to go? Is that why you're here?"

Simon glanced at the door, "Yeah," he said, looking back to me. "But I wanted to talk to you about something first."

"What's up?"

Simon stuck his hand into his pocket, searching for something. "Close your eyes," he said. When I didn't, he repeated himself, and I did as he'd asked.

"Now open your hand," he said.

I lifted my hand, open palm facing upward.

"I'm getting a gift?" I asked, smiling at the thought.

"Something like that," Simon murmured, and I felt him move beside me. Something small and cold dropped into my open palm, and I close my hand around it automatically. I could feel what it was. A ring.

"Are you proposing to me?" I asked mockingly and opened my eyes. When I looked at Simon, he looked back at me, his eyes amused.

"You really are one odd fourteen-year-old," he said, shaking his head. "You know that, right?"

"I've been told."

He nudged me with his shoulder.

"Come on, open it."

I looked down at my hand. For some reason, I wanted to wait for as long as possible. I'd never gotten a gift just like that before. Sure, Ron had sneaked me an extra chocolate milk from time to time, but no one had ever given me something else than what was handy for the taking at the moment.

Slowly, I uncurled my fingers, and when I saw what lay in my hand, I gasped.

"When did you ..?" I asked, amazed at what I saw.

Simon plucked the silver circle from my hand, the dark stone shimmering briefly as the sun shone through the window. He took my hand, and gently slid the ring onto my middle finger.

"I thought you might want to see it again," he said, his gaze never leaving my hand. "So I kept it for you. Safekeeping, until the right moment came for me to give it back to you." His thumb stoked across the top of my hand, a soothing gesture. "I just thought … Well, if it _was_ your mother that gave it to you, you shouldn't leave it hanging from some tree outside a prison."

I stared at my hand, and tears sprung to my eyes. Only, this time, the tears weren't broken ones.

I flung my arms around his neck.

"Thank you so much," I said. "I can't believe you did that."

Simon hugged me back.

"No worries."

"Who's ready for some serious fun-time–"

We pulled apart as Tori entered the room, staring at us. Before I knew what was happening, she stormed across the room, slapping the back of Simon's head and calling him word I will _not_ repeat.

"What the heck, Simon! She's like a toddler!" Tori crossed her arms, glaring at him. Realizing what she must've thought when she'd seen us, I blushed, feeling my entire face burn with the redness.

Simon just laughed, standing up from the bed.

"Well, _I'm_ not the one with the crazy ideas here," he said. "That'd be _you_, Tori. I mean, the girl saved my life. I think she's earned herself some thank-you-hugs."

Tori scowled at him, pointing toward the open door. When I glanced in that direction, I could see Chloe leaning against the doorframe, obviously trying to suppress a smile.

"This is a _girls _day," Tori said to Simon. "And as far as I know, _you're_ not a girl. So leave. Take your brother for a walk or something. And don't forget the ball, or he won't play nice."

Simon laughed, turning to leave.

"You better not say stuff like that when he's around," he called back. He stopped just as he'd passed Chloe and looked back at Tori. "Or he'll mark his territory on those expensive shoes of yours."

Tori let out an aggravated cry, and shot her arm out. I yelped at light seared from her fingers, Simon barely managing to duck in time, the light swooshing by above his head.

"Sometimes I really hate you, Simon Bae!" Tori yelled after him as he disappeared from view.

"Oh, please," I heard him say, his words becoming more and more distant as he walked. "No one could not _not_ like me."

"Yeah, well," Tori called after him. "You just wait and see, Simon Bae! By the time we're back from girls day out, I'll make sure Leah here absolutely despises you!"

I didn't think he was still close enough to answer.

"_Not possible!"_

I laughed at the sound of his barely audible voice, but stopped abruptly when Tori spun around, glaring at me.

"He's not funny," she said. Or, more like, _told_, me. Demanded. "He just thinks he is."

"Give it a rest, Tori," Chloe said, walking into the room for the first time. "If memory serves, _you_ seemed to think he was funny. You seemed to think a lot of things about–"

"Oh, no you don't, Chloe Saunders!" Tori snapped. "It has been agreed upon that we do never, _ever!_, speak about that. Ever!"

Chloe chuckled, and dropped down beside me on the bed. She handed something over to me. Surprised, I took it from her hands.

"My diary?" I asked, confused. "Why do you …" I stopped, realizing what was happening. They had my diary. My secrets. My _personal_ secrets. And I'd written stuff about Simon in there. Fourteen-year-old-girl-meet-cute-older-guy-for-the-first-time stuff.

"We didn't read it," Chloe hurried to say. "We didn't even open it. Well, _Tori_ wanted to, but I refused to let anyone do it. It shouldn't have been taken from you in the first place; Liz was just trying to help out."

I looked at her, frowning, asking, "Liz?"

Chloe smiled.

"Liz is kind of the one person in this family you haven't met yet. Well, you kind of have, several times; you've just not been able to _see_ her."

My frown deepened. "What?"

"Liz is our ghost," Tori explained, and Chloe gave her a stern look.

"She's not _our ghost,_" she said, looking back at me. "She's _a_ ghost. And a friend."

"So she's dead?" I asked. "And she stole my diary? You sent a ghost to steal my diary?"

Chloe smiled, obviously amused.

"We sent Liz to retrieve the camera _you_ stole from _us_," she said. "She just kind of snatched you diary at the same time."

My mind flashed to the night I'd seen the floating camera, and it finally made some sense. A ghost, _Liz_, had been carrying it. That's why I'd only seen the camera. I couldn't see the dead like Chloe could do. _Like my dad could do._

No, I told myself. I wasn't going to think about that. I was never again going to think about my father _or_ the prison. That part of my life was over.

"She figured we could use it to help Simon," Chloe explained. "But I told her we wouldn't read someone's diary like that. And after she'd showed us your picture and explained about how all you did was bring him food and talk to him, we realized _you_ weren't one of the bad guys."

I wanted to say that they'd been wrong. That I _had_ been one of the bad guys. I'd believed Simon was evil, that he'd belonged in there. I hadn't been nice to him because I knew he was innocent. I'd been nice to him because of selfish reasons. I'd only started speaking to him because of his age and that he was the closest to a normal companion I could find at the time. Pure evil or not. I'd _wanted_ someone to talk to. I'd needed it.

"So …" I said, placing the book down on the bed and standing up. "The camera, I mean, Liz … she was like scoping out the place? Taking pictures for you guys to see so you could build a plan around it?"

"Exactly," Tori said.

"But …" Something they'd said earlier had me wondering. "How did she know I was talking to Simon? In the cell, I mean. She should've been blocked from there."

"She was," Chloe said. "Form the cell, but she still managed as far as the corridor. That's how she knew about you bringing the food too. She saw you with that cart. She also saw you reading that file you guys had on him, and she realized you weren't in on any of it."

"Oh," was all I said.

To be honest, I didn't know how to react to all this. It was weird knowing that I'd been followed around by a ghost that whole time, and it made me feel kind of violated.

"We can talk about this _later_," Tori said, grabbing my arm and dragging me toward the open door. "We have some serious shopping to do. And a whole lot of ice cream to eat."

We left my motel room and the two of them guided me to a parked car. It was small, normal-looking. Nothing out of the ordinary. Well, expect for the werewolf leaning against it.

"Hey," he said softly, snaking his arm around Chloe's waist and giving her hair a quick kiss. She smiled at him, and got up on her toes, kissing his lips instead. I felt like I should look away, but they'd separated before I'd made the decision to actually do so.

"You sure I shouldn't come with?" Derek asked Chloe, seeming unable to remove his hand from her arm. "I can just hang back, keep an eye out."

"We'll be fine, Derek," Chloe said. "_I'll_ be just fine. We're just going to the mall. This have been the safest in a long time. I don't think they're staking out the local mall disguised as retail assistants."

I looked at them. "Safe from whom?"

"Oh," Tori said, waving her hand dismissively and opening the driver's side door. "Just some people wanting to kill us. Nothing new." She slid into the car. "Now come on! I really want a new pair of shoes!"

I stared at the spot above the car where her head had just been. Was she serious? A hand placed itself on my shoulder, and I turned to see Chloe.

"It's nothing to worry about, Leah. Promise. Today is all about the fun."

Chloe offered me the front seat, but I told her I'd prefer the back. As we drove out form the motel's parking lot and made out way to the mall, I used the time to really think over what they'd said. People were trying to kill them? Who? Why? I'd imagined everything was fine now that we'd gotten away from my dad and the prison. But what if it wasn't?

What if, not counting these mysterious killers they spoke about, _my dad_ was searching for us? He _had_ seemed really interested in these people. Was it to a degree that he'd take his zombies and come searching for us? Or had he, like Chloe had, sent someone even more dead? A ghost? An invisible spy to find us? No. Chloe would know if he had. She could see them too.

But could I really trust them? What if it all was an act? What if my dad_ had_ been right after all? What if these people were evil?

I shook my head. Looking down, I twirled the ring around my finger, and my thoughts landed on another issue I had. _A toddler_. That's what Tori had said. But did Simon see me that same way? I hoped not. I didn't want to admit it, mostly because she kind of had a point, he _was_ older than me. But I still didn't know by how much. I was turning fifteen soon, so if he was eighteen it wasn't _that_ much of a difference, was it? But these were things I had no idea about. I had absolutely no experience when it came to boys. Hell, I couldn't even be sure that what I was feeling for Simon was something in the way of a crush, but still … he made me feel _something_. Something new to me.

Yes, I decided. I _did_ like Simon. But did he like me back? How was I to know? I didn't know how to read signals. I didn't even know if he was _sending_ me signals.

I shook my head again, deciding I wasn't going to think this way. At least not today. Today was all about the fun, like Chloe had said, and as I saw the large building that was the local mall, I realized that the fun had already began.


End file.
